The Fault of a King
by Daughter Of The Revolution
Summary: King Ivan of the Kingdom of Russ wanted nothing more than the hand of Prince Alfred of the Kingdom of Americana. Medieval/knightAU. RusAme. Longshot. Dark.
1. The Fall of a Kingdom

**DOTR:**** Woot, another Longshot, lol, can't make 'em short, huh? Well, it seems these things pop outta me everytime I try typing up a chapter to Promised to Me (which I am in the works of the next one). Eh, been on a RusAme spree or somethin' it's about as bad as when I was on a RoGer spree some years back. I dun know when it'll stop D: You guys will know when no more fics pop out from me about these two, which doesn't look like it'll happen any time soon. Oh well, hope you enjoy!**

**WARNING!**

**Somewhat dark themes ahead.**

**Mentions of rape.**

**Violence.**

**Other possible triggers. (don't really wanna spoil everything)**

**You've been warned.**

* * *

><p>It had been at Crown Prince Ivan's coronation when he saw and fell in love with the young prince. Exactly a year later after a political tour brought him to strengthen ties between the Kingdom of Americana and his own that Ivan had asked King Samuel, the boy's father, for the prince's hand in marriage.<p>

King Ivan had been denied.

Of course he had. Prince Alfred was the "Golden Prince" of the Kingdom of Americana. His birth was full of heroing tales and spectacles. It was even said by the people that their God had so blessed the boy with the strength from His right arm. Any could tell that the Kingdom was not looking to be rid of their prince any time soon.

Ivan didn't understand why not. Prince Alfred was not the Crown Prince, his older brother was, and Crown Prince Jonathan was in good health. That being said, Prince Alfred would not inherit the throne in the near future. He was a useless prince in standard and term; nothing but a substitute if the true heir, his brother, fell ill or died.

Not to Ivan would he be useless. At his side he had the chance to rule, to conquer, to decree. Prince Alfred would not have the leisure nor opportunity of doing any of those things if he stayed in his kingdom, so why keep him?

Those reasons Ivan had explained to King Samuel and even after all he had offered; the jewels, the gold, the territory, King Samuel declined his offer and explained that he wished his son to marry a young maiden birthed in the same year as he and wished that he produce offspring, carrying on his God-blessed genes.

King Ivan didn't like rejection and so the diplomatic ties between Kingdom of Russ and the Kingdom of Americana weakened. It wasn't long before dispute over territory arose and negotiations failed.

The war was coming upon a decade now. Ten years since King Samuel declared the notion after King Ivan's soldiers destroyed a settlement of Americanans in territory Ivan had warned the king not to settle. So, Ivan met brute with brawn and there was now heralded in the most devastating war any two kingdoms ever found themselves in.

Millions of lives were lost. Thousands of square acres were gained and then lost in the same day. Alliances were offered. Spoils promised for their soldiers' devotion to the war. Young boys were now growing up to become soldiers. No more did they dream of becoming a baker like their father, or a blacksmith, or scribe. It was the blade or death. Just like Prince Alfred.

King Ivan heard many accounts from his soldiers who had faced the prince and lived to tell about it. The Americanan's gifted strength was spoken about often, especially by soldiers whose brothers were snapped in two by the prince. His stature was another thing noted. Every warrior who had seen the prince in battle told their king of his growth, tall, just like his father and brother. Another keen quality mentioned was his leadership. Ivan was told the boy was a commander and led many a knight into battle most valiantly. He hasn't lost many battles but when the odds are against the Prince of Americana and retreat was at hand Ivan was told the boy was always the last to leave, carrying all of his wounded men to safety.

Such a noble prince was greatly boasted on by his people. They loved him and they would not give him up. Oh, by declaring war on Ivan's kingdom they were risking a chance of just that; of being conquered and sacked of every treasure in their boundaries, and Ivan saw Alfred as the highest of value ever owned by that self-centered kingdom. Ivan knew that if Alfred was taken so would the kingdom's morale. And Ivan intended on taking everything valuable from that kingdom, beginning with their beloved and worshiped prince.

Early on in the war Ivan had hired watchers to spy on the royal family. A majority of their information told him about the schematics of battle plans and such, but a special set of watchers were paid to keep close attention to the young prince. Whether it be what he was eating or at which hour he slumbered or how many friends he had made in the city, Ivan wanted to know it all.

He became concerned when his watchers informed him that the boy had turned to the ripe age to begin training to become a knight. If Alfred became a knight then he would fight in the war, and that worried King Ivan. But a relief had set in when he was informed that the prince was a quick learner and that he easily and quickly became skilled in swordsmanship and all the nobilities of knighthood.

Even with that knowledge Ivan would not let his love perish. So he decreed that his men were not allowed to lay a strike to the prince. If confronted they were so allowed to defend themselves but only in the hopes of fleeing and not maiming.

Some, however, failed to follow through with his rules. Word quickly reached the king's ears that Prince Alfred had sustained an injury in battle, a battle that Ivan's army had come out victorious. The Americanan army was forced to retreat and last seen Alfred had struggled to mount his horse, staining the white steed red. Concerning himself less with the victory Ivan put to death every soldier of his who had fought and won that battle, all seven-thousand of them.

Displeased with his precious beloved's injury, yes, but even King Ivan saw the opportunity presented before him. Without their hero-prince the people's faith would wane. Alfred's absence in the battlefield proved fatal for their large kingdom.

Without Alfred, Crown Prince Jonathan was sent in his stead and Ivan held none of his men's blades back from him. Jonathan was slain. Now, Ivan pressed forward and ordered his men to attack the kingdom's capital city while it was still in morning and utterly defenseless.

Staring at the great white city as sieges upon sieges of Ivan's and his ally's men pummeled the fortress. His chest swelled with pride in the knowledge that he'd be the one to bring it down.

"Hmph, it will fall within the day." Ivan turned in his saddle to look at King Yao. The Asian king was upon his own horse, a smaller one than Ivan's black beauty. In his hand he waved a fan and every now and then he'd clap it together against the palm of his hand. Right now his slanted brown eyes were watching as his men stacked explosive stones atop the other.

"Da," Ivan agreed. Turning back toward the city again he watched as the explosive stones ripped the wide wall through and now their men began pouring into the city. "Shall we enter the city as well, comrade?"

Yao looked as if he didn't want to be there. Ivan could hardly solve his puzzling mood swings into something understanding, after all King Yao hated the Kingdom of Americana, especially King Samuel. He hated him as much as Ivan so why didn't he display more of a pleased countenance when the city entered into its stages of being razed to the ground?

Well, King Yao had always been like this Ivan supposed; always wanting to conquer but not be present during such deciding battles. King Ivan, however, forced him to attend this one. It would strengthen the morale of the men and if Yao didn't come then the promised Americana colonies and territory to the east would be forfeit. So King Ivan threatened and so King Yao came.

As part of the pact, once the kingdom crumbled into ruins and was completely taken over then King Ivan would receive the capital city and the territories to the west, as well as all the spoils in the city. That was their negotiated terms that they had yet to argue over at the moment and so those boundaries were set. The colonies to the east held plenty of riches so King Yao did not have to feel the need to fight for a claim for the ancient and priceless spoils in the capital city of the king.

Entering the city made Ivan beam with pride. After so many years he was finally stepping into the city as its conquering king just as he told King Samuel he'd do if he continued with his declaration of war against his kingdom. Ivan was always a man of his promise and he hated to disappoint.

The screams of the people in the city was music to Ivan's ears. He cared for none of the people and their boisterous ways. Only one. The men could rape, pillage, and kill as much as they wanted to.

It hadn't taken long before the white city was stained in red. The defenses strengthened as Ivan and Yao's army climbed upward toward the palace, but one by one the soldiers fell. Now Ivan was free to enter into the broken palace.

"I will not fight," King Yao said as he turned his mare around. "Enjoy yourself."

And King Ivan did.

Taking out his sword, Ivan made his way into the large palace. It really was a beautiful place, as it should be for the building that had housed and claimed to be the birthplace of a prince like Alfred. The city could not compare to the King's home. Down every corner there was different hued light shining through stained-glass windows each depicting a heroic tale from the kingdom and many of the forms obscuring the frames were of previous kings.

Ah, there was the current one. Depicted: King Samuel himself in all his crafted glory sitting on a throne with his wife, Queen Alice, beside him, beside the Queen her princess, Amelia, and standing next to her was the youngest of the children, Prince Jan. On the king's other side, beside his right hand stood the deceased Crown Prince Jonathan. Next to him stood just a few inches shorter, displayed in brilliant golden star brooches and cerulean bright eyes and royal blue attire and scarlet sashes stood the kingdom's heroic prince, Prince Alfred. The window was did not do him justice whatsoever. It was not the same as seeing him in the bodily form. Soon, Ivan would and no kingdom would stand in his way of that destined date.

The clash of steel reverberated down the hall and Ivan followed it straight to the throne room where King Samuel himself had taken sword against Ivan's men after all of his guards had been slain. The old man was a good warrior, but he was growing old in age and tired much faster than Ivan's young soldiers. The king of Russ could not resist jumping into the fight and slamming his own sword against the rival king's blade. The strike stunned King Samuel and the tall lengthy man stumbled back, tripping over the ascending stairs to his throne. A falling king was undignifying and so Ivan reached out and caught him by the collar of his rich fabric cloak.

"King Ivan!" King Samuel grit his teeth and struggled to be free of the other king's hold.

"I have won, King Samuel. You have lost." The loss for a king was more undignifying so Ivan let him go, he let him topple over, his large golden crown falling from his head and rolling away. The sight of the pathetic man made Ivan frown. "This could have all been avoided, King Samuel, if you would have just accepted my offer all those years ago." The white-haired king glared up at Ivan with blue eyes he'd given his son. "I am a loyal ally, but a frightening enemy."

Pressing his blade against the man's skinny neck did nothing to staunch that defiance in his glare. King Ivan's frown deepened.

"He was a mere boy of six years when you asked me for his hand. I had to refuse!" Ivan did not like the king's excuse. He remembered the rejection as if it had happened to him the previous day. That wasn't the king father's only excuse.

"Nyet," Ivan replied deeply, darkly. "Even if he was grown you'd still refuse him from me. So now I will just take him." Ivan chuckled and leaned down, grabbing Samuel by the throat. "How funny it is. Even with your refusal I will still have him. Know that I will take good care of him, petty king."

"You'll never have him!" King Samuel spat. "He is already far from this city."

"Da, I know. He was injured and took to recovering in one of your fort-cities," Ivan informed. "Which is why I pressed my armies upon you so suddenly. Your Crown Prince is dead, your Hero Prince is healing, and your allies—sea kingdoms. They are probably on their way, da? But it is too late. No one can save you or your family now."

Snapping his fingers signaled in more of Ivan's soldiers who had with them the remainder of King Samuel's family. Queen Alice and Princess Amelia were crying while Prince Jan kicked at the soldiers holding him before he broke loose and then shot forward, toward Ivan.

"JAN!" Queen Alice cried out as her youngest ran toward the enemy king with a small dagger in hand that he had hidden in his vest.

Ivan hadn't thought twice before bringing his blade down upon the boy and staining the marbled floor red. The king and his wife and daughter cried out in horror as the young boy of twelve was struck dead. Looking down at the corpse Ivan sighed and kicked the dagger away from the lifeless hand.

"Boys shouldn't hold weapons unless they expect to properly use them," Ivan chided as he turned to King Samuel and offered a smile. He could hear the Queen and Princess struggling against his men and by the sound of it they had broken free, both falling down to the boy's side and crying loudly over him.

When Ivan's grin turned into something far more sinister King Samuel's eyes widened. Then, Ivan said—

"I want you to watch as my men utterly defile and decimate your Queen and daughter."

The screams behind Ivan grow louder as his men came upon them, tearing them away from the boy's body and then ripping their dresses to shreds. King Samuel cried out and begged Ivan not to do this but Ivan merely smiled before grabbing a hold of the king's white hair and laying his sword through his neck. When one of Ivan's men offered him a pike the King of Russ sat the head neatly atop the spike with the face pointed toward the gruesome scene. Patting the decapitated head Ivan leaned down to the ear, saying—

"Keep both eyes open, foolish king."

With that King Ivan wiped his hands and turned to leave. The very moment he stepped outside of the palace the sound of the city's marble gate toppled over, the sound of its crumbling crushing destruction echoed throughout the entire city. Ivan glanced down to see the dashing young Prince Alfred, all dressed in full body armor fit for his royalty, come bursting through the wall in lead of his regiment. He was trying to save his capital city. Too bad, he was a little too late.

It was suicide, what the Prince was doing. His soldiers riding into the city were no match for King Ivan's forces combined with King Yao's. Ivan was impressed with how long the prince was holding out though. With that strength he used to tear down his own city gate the boy was proving a daunting challenge to Ivan's superstitious men.

It was only Alfred now. His men had long been killed as they fell behind to the army pressing around them. Alfred continued though, alone, laying his sword and gauntlet on any soldier who dared come close to him. Ivan watched him tire; he had been fighting for a good hour now. The moment he reached the inner city Ivan observed the way his shoulders sagged and the sword in his hand dropped from sheer exhaustion.

With a smile, King Ivan clapped his hands. His men surrounding the Prince cautiously stepped aside for their king. When Alfred's weary eyes met Ivan's form the boy sneered.

"Bravo, Prince Alfred, oh, or should I address you as King Alfred?" Ivan watched the boy's armored fist clench. "Big brother's dead, as well as the father, so, congratulations in your inheritance. Though, I wouldn't know a soul who'd want to be a king over this piece of ruble."

"You son of a bitch!"

King Ivan moved to the right to dodge the Prince's fatal punch. It seemed he's spiked another surge of strength; his moves quicker, his panting now none existent. Blue eyes glistening, face red, and pearly white teeth bare, the young Prince of nineteen years attacked King Ivan with everything he had, letting his fists swing and strike where they may.

That strength of his was beautiful, especially close up. But Prince Alfred wasn't the only human being who the gods had graced with their touch.

Pulling off his glove, King Ivan reached out his hand and grabbed a hold of Alfred's gauntlet as his fist flew at him again. Prince Alfred gapped in surprise of Ivan's speed but more so at the burning chill of ice stretching out over his armor and leather-bound arm. His blue eyes widened and immediately he retracted his arm.

Ivan watched in amusement as he tried to move the frozen arm to no avail. The shock was evident in the boy as his eyes looked around frantically for a way out only to stare into the mass of soldiers surrounding with weapons at the ready.

"You see?" Ivan spoke up, watching as Alfred turned to him and looked at him like some cornered animal. "You are not the only one possessing an otherworldly ability."

Leaning down Ivan pressed his bare hand against the cobbled road and let all observe as frost sank out of his palm and began cascading over the brick in zig-zag formation before it crept up and touched the tip of Alfred's metal boot. The boy jumped back and threw himself against a wall to keep from touching the enchanted ice.

"Give up, Alfred. I have won. The war is over," Ivan bade as he walked closer. The Prince tensed but his shock held him still for Ivan to stand in front of him. Reaching out Ivan chanced to touch Alfred's cheek, of course he expected him to dart away, but those hard blue eyes continued to stare at him. "There is nothing for you here anymore. The monarchy has died, your people my slaves. Without a functional kingdom your colonies will perish."

"Then why not kill me too? !" Alfred spat as tears began to fall down those tan cheeks as the realization that everything was over, truly over, struck the prince's heart. "I'll be a horrible slave, you hear me!"

"I know you will," Ivan replied with a nod, holding the boy's gaze. "But you will make a wonderful bride."

Alfred blinked in confusion. Of course he wouldn't know of Ivan's longing for him. He had been such a small boy when Ivan approached his father in proposal for his hand in marriage. But did he honestly think he was so lucky in battle? The prince would have been dead long ago if Ivan so wished it. No, he did not see the archers aiming away from him nor the foot soldiers steering their weapons away to strike at the knights at Alfred's sides. It was Ivan who kept him alive in this war and for this purpose only.

"What are you say—AH!" Alfred jumped away from the ice stretching up the wall behind him but the ice stretched out further, growing arms that reached and wrapped around the Prince's chest and held him still. He looked frightened at the ice figure mirroring King Ivan in appearance. The ice arms locked around Alfred began freezing his breastplate and the boy cried out in horror.

"I have waited thirteen years, Fredka, You have waited for me too, da?" Reaching out Ivan pressed his palms to Alfred's wet cheeks turning his face toward him as he leaned forward and pressed his pale lips to those rosy folds. He tasted like heaven, better than anything Ivan had ever imagined and all he wanted now was more of him.

When Ivan's fingers curled into the boy's golden locks he pulled roughly earning a silent groan from the prince who opened his mouth for Ivan's tongue. He was so warm, so supple that Ivan's body aroused and the chill surging through his body began swirling, spinning as if it were dancing around the king underneath his feet. All Ivan wanted to do was to take the Prince right there and now, he ached with the need to have him, but he refrained. This was not polite for a bride-to-be.

Pulling his lips away Ivan watched in amazement as the frost scattered on Alfred's lips and cheeks began melting away. Not only was he graced with god-like strength but the heat of the sun. He was made for Ivan, he just knew it.

The salty taste lingering on Ivan's lips wasn't pleasant. Gazing at the younger he watched as new tears began falling down and now Ivan felt his heart hurt at the sight. Reaching out he pet the boy's wet cheek again, trying to wipe away hot tears that refused to freeze over.

"Do not cry, my love, I will take care of you," Ivan assured in hopes to stop those tears but nothing seemed to help.

"You killed them all," Alfred sobbed out, closing his eyes to let his tears flow. "My family!"

"Da," Ivan nodded. He would not lie to the boy. "It was because they got in our way, my love. It is easier that they are gone."

When Alfred's eyes opened to look at the king, Ivan saw the utter despair. He didn't like the look. He hoped he didn't look like that on their wedding day.

With a wave of his hand, Ivan's ice clone released the prince who stiffly fell into Ivan's arms. He had to freeze the boy's armor, he didn't want him struggling when it was futile and would only prove to exhaust him. Petting his pretty little head Ivan offered a smile for his bride.

"This city is mine, Alfred. If you wish I can give it to you as a wedding present. It can be your summer home, da?" Alfred still cried. "Please, my love, the sight of your tears hurt me."

The ruined prince did not cease his tears even as he was stripped of his armor and bound and set in King Ivan's caravan to take back to his kingdom of endless ice and snow. King Yao had prepared to leave himself but his eyes could not be torn from the once heroic prince.

"Allow me to breed him, King Ivan," Yao spoke up his earnest want, flaying his fan out before him and pointing toward the sad prince.

"Nyet," Ivan replied. Frowning toward his ally king. "He is to be touched by no one other than myself, as promised in our treaty."

King Yao rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. "Really, Ivan? I watched with my own eyes as he brought down the city gate. If his strength can be passed on through genes then we could breed powerful soldiers all to have at our command."

"Nyet," Ivan answered once more as his violet gaze flicked over toward the wagon Alfred was being kept in under the watchful eye of twenty good soldiers.

"What good is he as a slave?" King Yao spat as he too looked at the disheartened ex-prince.

"He won't be a slave for long," Ivan assured.

"What? You'd better not kill him before he's allowed to be bred," Yao demanded. "That would be very wasteful."

"Once I return to my kingdom I will wed him," Ivan informed. He heeled his steed to trot past Yao's ride but after the shock wore off the Asian king was quick to canter next to Ivan's side once more.

"Are you out of your mind? He will not comply with being your queen. He might even try to kill you," Yao reasoned.

"I can defend myself perfectly fine," Ivan assured as he pressed onward. "It is you who should be concerned with speaking the way you are about my bride." Ivan gave Yao a frowning glance before trotting off faster to be rid of his presence. He could hear the smaller king's laughter and snide remark.

"Fine! Wed the bastard! Be sure to invite me to the wedding so we can have you sign over your territory in case he kills you on the wedding night. And he will, Ivan, you fool!"

What did King Yao know? Nothing. As long as Ivan treated the boy with care then he wouldn't think about harming him. Alfred would love him back.

The news of the fall of the Kingdom of Americana spread like a wild fire throughout the land. The allies were devastated and the enemies delighted, though those said enemies needed put in their place as they came looking for a piece of the large Kingdom's territory. It was Ivan's by right. Yao could deal with the leeches around him; Ivan had no concern for his troubles.

The moment he had set foot once again in his kingdom Ivan had been onslaught with issues. So his frustration prolonged his long awaited wedding. He needed everything settled or else he couldn't enjoy his young bride. Alfred he kept in a guest room. The doors were bolted and guards aligned down the entirety of the hall—of course Ivan believed none of those things would stop Alfred if he so wished to flee, but he hadn't. The boy hardly moved or ate per the servants' accounts. Ivan didn't like that at all and once more he became frustrated over this seemingly stubborn issue.

Instead of finishing his settlement over territory conflicts or slave transports Ivan had to tear himself away to force-feed Alfred because no one else would . . . no one else could.

"My love, are you trying to kill yourself? Eat."

The soup was good for him, especially to keep him warm as the eternal snow swirled around Ivan's capital city, encasing everything in white. Every day was like this and every day Ivan would have to conjure an ice clone to hold the boy frozen and shove the food into his mouth and massage his throat to get him to swallow. It wasn't a pleasant thing to do at all, but making sure Alfred was fed was Ivan's top priority.

Alfred, still refusing to eat, continued to lay unresponsive on the bed assigned to him. With his back facing Ivan his eyes continued to stare out of his window, watching the white snow rage around the castle. He was awake, but not mentally there, just like Ivan observed in previous visits. It was just depression, it would soon fade and Ivan would see him smile again—at least that was what Ivan continually told himself day after day.

With a concerned frown Ivan sat the bowl of soup down on a tray stand and then turned and laid himself down on the bed, pressing his chest against Alfred's back while his arm wrapped around his shoulders slowly. The boy hadn't reacted with any violence and so Ivan lay still, absorbing the blonde's warmth.

After laying there for a while Ivan decided to try to move. Leaning over Ivan planted a kiss against the skin of the boy's neck. He tensed as expected but what Ivan didn't expect was the ease afterwards. So, taking that as a possible enlightenment, Ivan pressed his boundaries. He again kissed Alfred on the neck and then above, just under his jaw.

Ivan's hand rubbed down Alfred's side before he wiggled his fingers under the light crème-colored shirt. When leather-clad fingers pressed experimentally down against the belly a squeezing hand had stopped him from going any further. Ivan lay still and calm, closely examining Alfred's reaction. The boy actually moved and reacted to something. Ivan had touched him before, granted this was teetering along the border of less innocent, but Alfred actually moved.

Ivan was not afraid of the possibility of Alfred's mysterious strength breaking his wrist clean off and so he leaned over again and this time tried suckling that tanned neck of his. Moving up he did the same to the patch of skin right behind Alfred's ear. Now he felt the pressure on his wrist tighten.

To ward off the danger Ivan breathed out a frost. It spread past his lips and stuck against the tips of Alfred's hair. When the hand finally retreated seconds before Ivan swore to freeze the boy's arm the king decided to press a chance again to continue. His fingers skimmed up Alfred's torso, blindly mapping it in his mind through the light touch. Running over bumpy muscle Ivan found himself impressed over the shape of the Americanan. From what he recalled from the times when Ivan constantly had watchers coming to him and informing him of details about the prince they had all told him that Alfred continuously gorged himself on food. Ivan had assumed the young boy to hold some sort of round to him from the reports. After touching him now Ivan realized that the younger must possess a higher level of metabolism than most boys his age.

Alfred was still so young, but he'd grow. Oh, he'd grow.

As Ivan's hand traveled up further his arm took with it the shirt on the boy's chest, revealing that seductive skin that Ivan longed to claim completely his. Pressing Alfred close to his chest Ivan once again absorbed his warmth.

"I love you, Alfred. Know this," Ivan whispered into his ear. "Everything I did, I did for you."

"Killing my family and then tearing me from my kingdom is your way of telling me you love me?"

Ivan was surprised by the speech, but welcomed it nonetheless. Retracting his wandering hand, Ivan pushed Alfred down on his back. Now glistening blue eyes were looking up at him for the first time in months. Reaching up, Ivan pressed his thumbs underneath Alfred's eyes, the left one pressed out a tear and Ivan watched the warm liquid slither down his finger before he offered a comforting smile for the boy.

"You may not remember this, Fredka, but when you were very young you attended my crowning coronation with your father, mother, and brother. The very moment my eyes beheld your beauty I fell in love with you." Running his fingers tenderly through Alfred's hair Ivan continued, "I politely approached your father and asked for your hand in marriage. In my show of respect for you I offered gems, gold and silver, slaves, thousands of miles of territory, but do you know what your father said, hm?" Alfred was silent but the king could tell he was listening. "He denied me you in favor that you wed one more your age. How cruel, da? To deny the one I love from me is such a terrible sin." One that cost King Samuel his life as well as that of his family's lives.

"So you started a war," Alfred assumed in trying to understand the mind of the King of Russ.

"Ah, your father started the war by moving his settlements into my territory," Ivan corrected as he rubbed Alfred's jaw. "I was simply defending my borders, but, Alfred, you must know that a call to war allows so many things." Leaning down Ivan pressed a kiss to his love's forehead. "By declaring war your father put his life as well as his family's lives, his territory, his cities, his people; all of it was placed in the hands of fate. War is always a gamble, Alfred. You either lose horribly or win immensely. If the rival kingdom won the war then they have every right to do with these things previously stated as they please. As I did."

The quiver of his bottom lip and the trembling of muscles motioned that Alfred was beginning to cry again. So Ivan leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Alfred's in a show of affection. He didn't know if it helped in any way but Ivan could not resist kissing those trembling lips just to still them for a while.

Alfred turned his head away and closed his eyes to the king. "My father knew what he was doing when he withheld me from you."

Ivan frowned. His eyes darkened as Alfred said such a rude disrespectful thing, as if to make light of his heartache from being rejected. When Alfred opened his eyes he looked at him, actually stared him in the eyes.

"He knew I did not belong in a cruel kingdom like yours."

Ivan felt the need to strike him but he refused to mar that pretty face before their wedding day. Afterwards then.

Grabbing a hold of that square jaw Ivan squeezed tightly and let his frost bite into Alfred's warm skin. "Da, you do now, and let me make something clear . . ." Ivan shook Alfred's body roughly and made sure he was looking at him as he leaned in close, speaking against his lips. "The wedding will come and you will swear your loyalty to this _cruel_ _kingdom_ as its queen." Ivan shook him again and then inhaled the boy's hot breath. "And know that I have every intention of taking what is mine by right on our wedding night."

One last rough shake shoved Alfred deeper into the mattress. Satisfied that he had gotten his point across, Ivan got up and left. He was upset with Alfred that he could not care if he ate anything for the rest of the entirety of that day. So he kept himself busy and tried nursing his migraine the best he could. That is, until one of Americana's once allies showed up at his door.

"So he is here then . . . alive?" Ivan had never really liked Prince Arthur, Alfred's cousin. Being the Kingdom of Britannia the isle only concerned itself with the sea and all its routes. That was why Ivan saw them as a stupid ally because most of Ivan's kingdom was land-locked, as well as a good portion of the previous Kingdom of Americana. So, when they sent out pleas to their sea allies the sending ships took their time and arrived too late. Useless allies.

"Da," Ivan answered dryly. He didn't want to speak too much to the prince because he felt he was undeserving of the information regarding Alfred's current state of care. After all he had failed him in their kingdom's darkest hour so why care now?

"Thank God." Prince Arthur let out a relieved sigh when his green eyes looked back up at the king seated casually on his throne. Then, he asked, "Would you be so kind to let me see him?"

"Nyet."

The Celtic prince looked so heartbroken it was annoying. Ivan just wished him to leave, he was that agitated with the prince's presence. Curiously he watched the blond then pull out his purse and place it at the foot of the throne podium.

"What are you doing?" Ivan questioned. He knew he was not paying homage. Their kingdoms were too proud for that.

"He's a slave now, am I right?" Arthur met Ivan's gaze without fear. "I'll purchase him from you. I have a hundred gold coins in that purse. If you want more I'll give it to you."

Oh, so that was what he was doing. Ivan chuckled. "He's not on the market."

"He's not some trophy, King Ivan," Arthur bit out. That was another thing Ivan didn't like about Prince Arthur: he had no respect for authority. Ivan was king, Ivan had conquered the great Kingdom of Americana. Arthur was just a measly prince, the youngest of four sons. He would not be seeing the throne in his lifetime so he had no standing in the royal courts, especially among the kings, yet he continued to speak to kings and queen in this arrogant demanding tone. How dare he speak to Ivan of all like that?

"Da, I know he's not," Ivan replied in kind, humoring himself and the prince by keeping the conversation.

"Then why keep him here in his misery?" There Arthur went again, looking and sounding like he was concerned for Alfred. Well, his concern was as late as his ships were all those months ago when the white city of the Kingdom of Americana was razed to the ground and the royal family slaughtered.

"Because I plan to wed him," Ivan informed. The look on Arthur's face was perfect and Ivan took great pleasure in seeing it.

"W-Wed him?" Arthur at the king as if he were dressed in nothing but his loincloth. "You can't be serious."

"Da, I'm afraid I am which is why I regret to inform you that I cannot sell him." Ivan smiled at the horror rising in Arthur's facial features. "You are allowed to attend the wedding if you so wish. I am inviting many people. It will be a good ceremony."

Prince Arthur was stuttering. He looked distressed which annoyed Ivan more so. Did everyone honestly believe Alfred would be so mistreated as his queen? No, Ivan would give him everything he ever asked for and more, because Ivan loved him. You did those things for the ones you loved.

The Prince of Britannia did attend the wedding ceremony and he never took his hurt eyes off of Alfred as he and Ivan stood before the priest, well, except when he glared at Ivan in silent threat. King Ivan ignored the little prince for the most part. His wedding day needed his attention more.

Seven months. It had taken seven months to settle everything in his growing kingdom. Now Ivan did not hesitate to proceed with the wedding. The attendance was all in place. Every invitation provided a participant and Ivan thanked all his guests. Kings, Queens, Princes, and Princesses all joined on that day to watch as the last Prince of Americana was wedded and sworn into another kingdom.

There Prince Alfred stood, dressed in silvers and golds. His wedding attire consisted of rich sapphire blue fabric with golden embroidery spinning around about the sleeves and the chest. Two star shaped pendants clipped to the boy's shoulders held onto his red and white striped cloak. About his neck lay a ring of golden stars, all meeting together around a large ruby touching the boy's breast. A red golden rimmed sash hung against his chest. There was a sword placed on his hip. A blade merely for ceremony than thing else; the hilt was designed intricately with gold, the top encrusted with sapphires while diamonds twirled downward. He looked every bit royal like he should. Ivan had his tailors design the outfit specifically of Americanan design and color to show the world invited that Alfred was representing his fallen kingdom and that after this ceremony he would be an Americanan no more. He was the last.

The silence met with the priest asking for Alfred to recite the pledge of Ivan's kingdom after him was disrespectful but where Alfred remained silent, Ivan answered for him.

"He so swears," Ivan said, giving a look to the concerned priest to silently signal for him to continue the ceremony.

All was quiet as the priest untied the violet sash around Alfred's waist and then wrapped it around his and Ivan's clasp hands—it was a tradition in Ivan's kingdom to bind two beings together with a violet sash. It represented the bride's heart and purity that the priest took and intertwined with the husband as so does the bride intertwine their heart and being. Americana's wedding traditions were different, one of which Ivan decided he would try right then.

Ivan leaned over and cupped Alfred's cheek with his free hand, pulling him close as he pressed his lips to his. It was an Americana tradition to "kiss the bride" after their vows were sworn into their God. Pulling away Ivan smiled at his new queen, but no smile was returned. Alfred had been mostly unresponsive even at the reception. It didn't matter because Ivan refused to leave his side and kept their hands clasp tightly together even though the ceremonial bind was gone.

The entertainment was fun and the gifts were bounteous. Pulling his bride's hand up to his mouth Ivan placed a kiss against the back of it and held the hand close to his heart. Smiling at his beauty he said—

"I am very happy, my love." Even though Alfred had yet to touch his food or drink Ivan ignored it to keep his happiness. "You by my side make me happy and now no one will take you away from me again." The Russ crown atop that golden head looked lovely on Alfred. "Oh, I have a wedding present for you." Ivan waved for a servant to come and out they laid a large blueprint down in front of the king and queen. "As promised. It is your old capital city. I want to rebuild it for you so it will be your summer home. Well, of course mine too. I wouldn't want to be separated from my love for an entire season."

Alfred's uncaring countenance hadn't changed as his dull eyes looked over the map before blinking up at Ivan, that frown ever present. The look was starting to upset the king quite a bit, after all this display of affection he was offering the boy even Alfred was ignoring and Ivan was growing tired of being annoyed, especially now that Alfred was his official queen.

Waving the servant and the map away Ivan stared at Alfred until the boy turned his face away.

"Be grateful that it is I who owns you, Alfred. You'd be off far worse without me." Ivan was stern as if speaking with an unfaithful ally walking on fine sands about to cave in. "You would have been sold for a high price in the slave markets if I had wanted to do so. They who would have purchased you would have locked you away in a dark cellar, starving you to near death. The only purpose you'd be of was to fuck and breed other slave bitches so they could capture your genes and sell the bastards to every kingdom looking to pay high for powerful soldiers in their armies. Trust me, Fredka, I know. I've received offers."

Alfred continued to disrespect his husband by refusing to look him in the eyes when addressed. Reaching out Ivan grabbed the boy by the arm and pulled him close. That had caused that blond head of his to turn to face him.

"If you do not wish to be in this situation then I suggest you drink up to create some hoax of fantasy."

Ivan gave Alfred's arm a good hard threatening squeeze before Ivan decided to let go and straighten himself in his large chair.

"No."

Ivan turned his eyes toward his lawful queen. He had spoken, he heard him himself.

"I don't want to forget," Alfred said, his dull eyes turning once again to the entertainment before them.

Ivan knew he was not saying such a thing out of the sheer happiness of his wedding. That distant look in his eyes explained the boy's depressed mood. Those eyes were less beautiful without their shine and Ivan wondered when they'd return that vibrant youthful sparkle of theirs again. Yes, he could wait, but that did not mean he wouldn't grow impatient.

Alfred had been a puzzle for King Ivan ever since his capture. First he didn't fight back and then he became a recluse in his room and threatened starvation, and now he spoke at the most confusing times. Ivan knew that if the boy truly didn't want this then there was nothing standing in his way from breaking out and running, well, nothing except for the king that is.

With a sigh Ivan decided it best to mingle with his guests. The reception continued on long into the night but it was good and everyone enjoyed themselves. For their attendance Ivan offered each guest, whether adult or child, a chest of gold. That had pleased them immensely, all except for one.

"What is that?" Ivan asked curiously at the parchment held out before him.

"The deed to your territory," King Yao explained. "I figured I should have it by right after Alfred kills you tonight."

Even if it was a wedding joke—or was it?—King Ivan was still offended.

"There is an assassin hiding right behind that tapestry right there with a blade bearing your name," Ivan threatened with a smile and pleasant tone.

"And your wine is poisoned," Yao threatened just as dangerously, his eyes glancing toward the goblet in Ivan's hand.

The King of Russ frowned and when a passing servant made their way around them Ivan placed the cup down on their tray to whisk away. "You worry too much, King Yao."

"I worry nothing for you," Yao said as he clapped his fan against his palm. "If you wish to be a fool and risk your life by wedding that boy then do so."

"Who do you think it was who captured him?" Ivan asked deeply, his frown setting in. "I am not so weak as you like to lie I am."

"Be cautious," Yao warned.

"Da, of course," Ivan said just to silence the overly worried Asian King. Of course his words didn't seem very convincing from that grim look on King Yao's face, especially as Ivan took his new bride by the hand and danced with him in amongst the other wedded. Ivan knew it would take time for Alfred to accept everything. He's always been such a stubborn boy but Ivan had faith in him, which is why he planned on giving him the conquered territory of Americana to govern. His presence would settle the slaves and Ivan knew he'd rule his old people fairly. He'd prove himself a fine queen and Ivan anticipated the pride he'd feel for his spouse when he'd uplift their monarchy. Instead of dark tyrants that every other kingdom saw Ivan and his family as they would begin to grow fonder of them with the golden sunshine of Americana next to Ivan's side.

Ruling a kingdom was full of politics and if an upcoming ruler was not trained in it growing up then they'd have their reign cut too short. From the way they traded servants, sold slaves, settled disputes, elected governors, treated their spouses, what they wore, it all mattered in the on looking eyes of court. No more would everyone look away when Ivan entered the courts of the rulers, not when Alfred stood in hand as his queen. Of course it would help his reputation to seem fair if the boy would exalt him. He would in time, Ivan believed, but today was the bride's day and so Ivan would worship and exalt him.

When the guests finally got drunk on their wine and retired to their offered rooms in Ivan's guest hall, the King offered his bride another kiss and took him by the hand before leading him to their marital chambers.

Though Ivan loved Alfred with all his heart he did lock the door behind him. Alfred had been very unresponsive during the wedding ceremony but Ivan did not know if the room would make him change. He certainly didn't want a fight nor a chase but Ivan would if needed to. He would not be denied this night. The day might be Alfred's but tonight was his.

The room was decorated beautifully, large and spacious, the fireplace being the only light lit the room in a dim light also emitted a glow upon the scattered treasures placed in the room to show the new queen that he had wedded into a wealthy kingdom. A sweet and pleasant smell filled the room and looking over toward the large bed a bowl of incense hung overhead.

Reaching forward Ivan unclipped Alfred's cloak, letting the striped fabric fall to the ground silently. He stood behind Alfred and slowly placed his gloved hands on the boy's shoulders. There was no response and so Ivan continued. Leaning forward Ivan placed a kiss to Alfred's neck as he unfastened the collar clasp. After which he took off the golden necklace about Alfred's neck and laid it aside, letting his hand slide into the boy's deep blue vest and rub his sternum.

Even if Ivan had waited years for this he swore he'd be slow and gentle because Alfred needed it. Ivan wanted the boy to relax under his touch and respond kindly in return. Ivan wanted his queen to want his king. Ivan wanted to make love to him as a groom does to their bride. He wanted Alfred to know that he loved him and would be good to him.

Unbuttoning the golden buttons adorning Alfred's vest Ivan began pulling the fabric down and off his body, leaving his chest bare to the night air. Rubbing his arms Ivan leaned in close and inhaled his bride's scent. He remained doing this for a moment in observation to reaction. There was nothing. Alfred remained suspiciously still.

In honest comparison, remaining still and compliant was better than refusing and struggling. At least it was to Ivan as he moved away and took off his gloves. Moving over toward a small table he took up a bottle of lotion and poured the liquid on his hands, rubbing them together as he returned to Alfred and began rubbing it over his back and his shoulders and then down his chest, his hands mapping once more.

Leaning forward Ivan kissed Alfred's neck right near the nape. Downward his kissed his shoulder and then he began descending kisses down the boy's spine, rubbing his ribcage as he did so. Alfred still did not move, did not say a word. Silence meant agreement.

Now Ivan was kneeling after placing a last kiss at the base of Alfred's back, where the last patch of visible skin lay just above the waistband of his pants. Taking a hold of his arm Ivan turned his queen around and pulled him close. He hooked his fingers around the golden belt holding onto the sheath of Alfred's ceremonial sword and took it off.

Rising again Ivan wrapped his hand into the back of Alfred's hair and pulled him to him. Lips collided again in a sweet serenade that Ivan longed to deepen churn out passion. Letting his tongue swipe across Alfred's lips did nothing to encourage him into parting his them for his husband. So, Ivan's hand caressed from the back of the boy's neck up toward his jaw where his thumb rubbed the blonde's chin and gently pulled it open with little resistance.

Ivan pressed his tongue inside and tasted him. He tasted of everything he's ever wanted and more. Yes, Alfred continued to stand there unresponsive, even in the midst of this passionate kiss but as Ivan held him close and kissed him deeply, all the cares of the world left him.

Ivan probed his tongue against Alfred's own tongue but to no avail, he was still as ever, teetering on the edge of limpness like a doll of some sort. It was rather annoying but again it was better than Alfred struggling, which Ivan was prepared for. When he pulled back to catch his breath Ivan observed Alfred's own breath falling in short pants, even those swollen lips enticed Ivan's lips to return and taste them again. This kiss was just as deep if not longer. Swiping behind straight teeth and under tongue Ivan mapped Alfred's mouth, mesmerized and entranced by its taste.

Whilst laying another kiss to Alfred's lips, Ivan poured more lotion onto his hands and began rubbing the boy's arms, smoothing over the warming lotion despite the chill in Ivan's fingertips. When he touched Alfred's chest the new queen finally responded to those touches; he pulled away.

Uncertain blue eyes looked at him for a moment before Ivan stepped closer and pulled what was his by law into his arms and kissed him again. Gently his fingers skimmed over the tan chest, making sure to remember every sensitive area he could for future pleasure.

Now Ivan was touching the trousers and he pulled away to watch his queen closely as he gently eased them open. Once loose he leaned down again and kissed Alfred's neck. Down once more he kissed Alfred's pectoral and then his stomach and then . . . Ivan set his violet eyes on blue ones as he placed an opened mouthed kiss on the crotch.

Ivan heard a slight gasp at the action and smiled. Pulling his head away just slightly Ivan slowly tugged down the leggings. The more skin revealed the more Ivan tenderly kissed from that round hip bone to those tanned thighs. Slipping off each boot before shedding the pants entirely now Alfred stood before Ivan in nothing but a loincloth. Oh, how he'd waited an eternity for this.

Wrapping arms around Alfred's abdomen the king pulled his queen close so that he may lay his head against his pelvis. He imagined holding Alfred like this with those strong hands of his running affectionately through his hair. Ivan was holding him like in his dreams, but Alfred was not combing his fingers through ashen hair. He wasn't expected to, at least not now. Just so long as he didn't pull or press away then Ivan was content in living his dream in solemn privacy.

"I love you, my sunshine," Ivan whispered as he turned to look back up at Alfred who continued to watch him in unresponsive silence. At least his eyes were on him. Reaching up, Ivan grasped the boy's hand and pressed its palm against his cold cheek. "You will love me just as much one day," Ivan said in promise as he closed his eyes and rubbed into the palm.

Placing a kiss to the center of Alfred's palm Ivan then stood himself up and kissed Alfred's lips tenderly. Taking him by the hands Ivan guided the boy to bed. He watched as those blue eyes froze at the sight of it; draped in rich dark fabrics and littered with scattered rose petals—Americana's representing flower, as well as Alfred's favorite blossom—the bed looked enticing, at least to Ivan but Alfred looked at it with so much dread as if it would soon transform itself into the likes of a coffin and swallow him whole. To settle his worries, Ivan squeezed Alfred's hand in assurance. This caused the queen to look toward him. Ivan smiled endearingly but Alfred simply looked away from him and the bed.

Pulling once again Ivan ushered Alfred to the bed. He pressed him to sit and then to lay down. He knew the Americanan would not do it if told so Ivan used his struggle-less body to lead and now he lay there atop the sheets with the rose petals surrounding his frame beautifully as if he were the roses' disk center. The low glow from fire encased in the fireplace caused the shadows to dance across the curves and contours of Alfred's body and it was beautiful. Ivan's fingers followed the swaying shadows and thanked every god above that this was real and that this was happening.

King Ivan could never love Alfred as much as he did right then and the anger he felt when the boy's father denied him all those years ago was forgotten and the only thing Ivan felt was overwhelming affection and the need to show Alfred just how beautiful he was.

Pressing his palm flat against Alfred's taut stomach Ivan leaned himself over and kissed the boy's collarbone slowly, his lips brushing over the skin three times before he applied a little pressure and initiated a loving kiss. He applied the same kind of attention further down the torso. Circling over the rosy nipple Ivan breathed hotly and then poked his wet tongue at the patch of skin before pressing his lips against it to suckle long. He did the same to the other and it wasn't long before Ivan's keep ears caught sound of his bride's sigh leaving his lips. That should have been a moan. Alfred was forcing himself to be quiet. Ivan didn't bother with it because he swore to himself to make his bride feel pleasure tonight and that is what he was going to do. If his lips didn't voice it then his body certainly would.

Sending each bead off with a long loving lick Ivan straightened. Alfred was not looking at him any long, instead his head was turned and eyes closed tightly. There was a small flush across his cheeks and by the feel of Alfred's pelvis against Ivan's hip, his body was enjoying this.

There would be more, but first Ivan needed to shed his own layers of clothing. His polar bear cloak came first, falling heavily down the side of the bed. Then he took off his sword and sheath following his sash and ruby and onyx necklace.

He looked toward his bride as he unbuttoned his vest. Alfred simply lay there with his head turned and eyes shut, completely still, completely quiet. Finally he unwrapped his scarf from around his neck and folded it evenly. It was the only article of clothing he took the time to do so as he turned and placed it at the foot of the bed where a trunk was. Besides his beautiful bride now, it was one of his most prized possessions. It had been his mother's before she gave it to her firstborn, which was Ivan's older sister. Then, on the day she too had passed away his sister offered it to him. It was old and worn but still Ivan swore he'd wear it in their remembrance, especially after being the last of his family alive.

Returning back to the task at hand Ivan undressed himself until he too was laden in nothing but his loincloth. Pressing close, Ivan laid himself atop Alfred. The feel of their bare skin touching startled the boy who opened his eyes and looked at him. Fright was present in those irises but Ivan soothed his worry and kissed him tenderly, rubbing his body to stop him from shaking.

The trembles weren't much to worry over because Ivan knew the boy was nervous. After all this would be his first time. So Ivan poured more lotion over the boy, its warm substance eased any tension built up in the joints. Kissing his neck and sucking lightly earned Ivan another sigh. Violet eyes glancing up took note in those closed blue eyes once more.

Rolling his hips experimentally against Alfred's pelvis, Ivan noted that the boy had opened his eyes again. The fright and nervousness were all gone, now they appeared dull and unfocused once more. With more lotion on his hands Ivan rubbed the boy's strong thighs in part also unfastening the loincloth. Now there was his bride, all lain out bare before him. Nothing hidden.

Reaching up Ivan gently touched his spouse's phallus, stroking it softly with the backs of his knuckles. Alfred's eyes closed again and he sucked in a sigh that almost escaped. This did not deter Ivan from taking a firmer grip of the organ and lather it with warm lotion.

Ivan even leaned down and kissed the tip, holding it there as his eyes looked up toward his bride's face who shook his head and scrunched his eyelids tighter down over his eyes. With an encouraging rub Ivan's other hand pulled Alfred's hips forward along with a squeezing pull for his cock. It was meant to get him to thrust into his hand. After repeating this process three more times Alfred did, albeit a small buck.

Ivan smiled in pride before reaching down and unwrapping his own loincloth, tossing it down the side of the bed where the rest of his clothing lay. He pulled his body over his bride and laid down upon him. He heard Alfred grunt from the wait and he could tell that those tan hands upon his ribs were not to hold but to push if necessary.

He kissed and sucked his neck and shoulders whilst continuing to massage his muscles and limbs. Caressing his thighs to wrap around his hips proved a little hard. Alfred would not squeeze his pelvis like Ivan wanted and so he had to move his hands down to those tan thighs to press close to him. He didn't want to have to hold them through this night because his hands ached to caress other parts of Alfred's beautiful body.

Kissing the corner of the boy's mouth in farewell for a while Ivan pushed himself up and away. Pulling arms, wrists, elbows, knees, thighs, calves, shins all to Ivan's mouth to kiss and nip and suck. There was not a single place on Alfred's body that he neglected with his touch. He even turned Alfred around to lay kisses over his shoulder blades and spine before descending and rubbing the boy's pert behind rounds.

Slipping a finger between the globes Ivan felt the boy shudder. He looked up to see him clenching at the bed sheets underneath. Ivan didn't even penetrate him and yet he shook. It was understandable and so Ivan opted to caress for longer before touching that tight ring of muscle where he would enter his bride.

Alfred pressed his face into the sheets and stilled to rigidness. Ivan kissed the backs of his thighs in soothing motion before he pulled away and turned Alfred around on his back once more. The sheets went with the blond, still pressing to his face, hiding it away from Ivan's gaze. Ivan reached up to pulled it away to lock eyes once with the boy before his bride closed his eyes and turned his face away from him again.

Alfred would know of his love for him soon. If his ears would not listen then his body would.

Once more Ivan touched Alfred's cock, stroking it and urging it to stand for him. It took some time and some kisses before it stood fully erect. With a pleased smile Ivan rewarded the organ with a gentle squeeze to the testicles attached. He heard Alfred let out another sigh and when he looked up at him he saw that the flush draped over his face had spread considerably, now etching down his neck.

The boy was aroused by Ivan's ministrations. The king, himself, was already hard by this point, just by being able to touch his bride, to kiss, to suck, and bring him to full-standing. Without a touch Ivan was fully hard and now he pressed his aroused member to Alfred's thigh. The boy's leg trembled at its touch. Ivan needed to make him see that it was not threatening in any way, that he would care for him as well as his body that night.

Taking a hold of his engorged member Ivan pressed it against Alfred's. The boy was well-endowed, not as big as Ivan, himself, but he would grow, as well as his cock. Bucking into it Ivan rolled his hips. A sigh left Alfred's lips and so Ivan pressed closer.

Leaning down Ivan once again lay atop his bride, their chests touching and their pelvises molded together as their erections rubbed and touched. With a kiss to the his bride's lips Ivan let a moan vibrate down the boy's throat and his reward was a haughty sigh that Ivan quickly inhaled like his first breath of air after coming out of a frozen lake.

So Ivan continued their dance until he felt a burning in his stomach that he swore would be settled when inside his bride. Once more Ivan pulled away and reached over to the stand next to the bed where he sat the bottle of lotion. Pouring more onto his hand he moved between Alfred's legs and began skimming his cold fingers over his entrance. Gently he rubbed around the ring of muscle for a while to get him used to the feel of his fingers there. He knew the preparation for the union would take a while but Ivan was patient and had no intentions of pushing forward quicker than necessary.

In time Ivan slowly pressed a finger inside. Just the tip at first before going further. When he felt Alfred's muscles clench around him in tense strain he would stop and caress his thigh or kiss his knee to calm him. When the boy relaxed he'd continue until his entire finger was inside him. This process was repeated after three more fingers were added.

Alfred did his best to remain quiet but when Ivan began stretching him with his fingers he let out small grunts of pain before a few whines slipped from his lips. When the sighs left that was when Ivan knew he was pleasing him. He could already feel the boy trying to suck him in, his body wanted him; his body was ready for him.

Pulling his fingers out he took up the lotion and poured a large amount on his strained arousal. Settling his hips between the boy's legs he then reached out over toward the stand to take up a towel that had been folded neatly atop it. Using it he wiped Alfred's thighs so the lotion would not interfere with his grip.

Palming his erection he took hold of it and guided it toward Alfred's entrance. When the head pressed against the ring Ivan took a hold of the boy's hips. When he pushed the head in the boy remained still. When the shaft began stretching his bride out further than his four fingers had the tears came.

Pressing chest to chest Ivan leaned up to kiss those tears away. He froze in his ascent into the boy even knowing the tight heat drove him insane with want and need. It took minutes before he was fully sheathed within the boy and even then it took more minutes to let him adjust. Remember, Ivan was patient.

Pulling back slowly Ivan pressed his hips forward and stretched Alfred once more. Those hands of his trembled as they clenched into the dark bed sheets around him and more tears began to fall. Ivan's palm caressed Alfred's wet cheek softly and when those eyes opened, when they finally opened, and looked at him Ivan leaned forward and kissed him deep.

He kept his thrusts gentle and slow. He refrained from hurting Alfred no matter how much he needed to go faster and harder. This way added a pleasure to him that he had never thought could feel so good. The way Alfred stretched out around him, his warmth, his tightness, Ivan felt as if he could feel every inch of him. With the way the skin on his cock was pulled back and forth by the tightness it etched an electricity down his groin that jolted up his spine.

Only a little faster, that was all Ivan allowed himself as he bucked his hips forward and felt his bride from the inside out. Laying his head down against his queen's shoulder Ivan breathed out cold frost and that curled along the tan skin only to melt into a sheet of thin liquid a few seconds later. His feeling hands, one gripping Alfred's thigh and the other running its thumb over the boy's right nipple also sent out surges of frost that melted against the boy's hot skin seconds after forming.

Cold and hot, frost and heat. They danced like this before Ivan leaned up and kissed his love once more, turning his lips blue as he sucked in his warmth. Alfred's eyes were open when he pulled away, looking at him but not really focusing on him. Ivan caressed his face. He longed for those beautiful eyes to look at like just like the way he always had looked at the boy for so long.

Ivan kissed him hard again and finally, finally after the long drawn out pleasure his dam of control burst and he came. He gasped and rolled his hips into his bride as he exhausted himself inside Alfred. Alfred gasp, closing his eyes, the look on his face looked quite unsatisfied with the feeling of being filled by his husband.

Ivan caressed his cheek before he pulled his arms up and around him, urging the boy to wrap them around his back. Alfred kept his arms there to Ivan's surprise as he pulled out and then thrust back inside the boy, intent on making the younger ejaculate just like he had. He was faster this time and slightly harder, his cock hadn't taken long before the warmth and tightness from Alfred's virginity coaxed it to stand erect again.

With the harder thrusts Ivan could feel himself sinking deeper into the boy. One particular thrust brought Alfred off of the bed, his back rising and then falling, a hard stuttering sigh exited through his nostrils while his golden brows crashed together in a concentration Ivan assumed used to focus his will to keep from making a sound.

Trying again the back arched and it was beautiful. Ivan pressed his hand against his chest as it rose. He felt Alfred's heartbeat against his palm and it beat just as fast as his own. This encouraged Ivan to press in deeper and hold Alfred closer.

Those panting lips next to his ear continued to breath out hot heavy breaths as Ivan rolled his hips into him, faster and faster. The cock rubbing against his belly bobbed until it was hot pressing against him. Reaching down Ivan gave it one squeeze before it swelled and that sticky substance running down Ivan's hand created a smile on the king's lips. The boy came and Ivan swelled with pride, as had his cock inside Alfred.

A gasp escaped Alfred's lips when Ivan pistoned himself quicker, feeling his second orgasm weighing in his belly. Their bodies rocked against the sheets. Ivan tangled his fingers into gold hair and pulled until he was sucking on the boy's neck and tasting him for everything that he was. The perfection in his arms and around his arousal hardened him to the point of pure bliss.

He rubbed Alfred's limp cock to help him to enjoy this act once more because Ivan could not stop himself. After his second ejaculation he swelled harder and continued. He could feel Alfred's weariness in the observation of the sweat sticking his bangs to his brow and making his skin sheen in the firelight. Squeezing the head on Alfred's cock pumped it to fully awaken. The next time Alfred came before Ivan had the white substance splattered all across Ivan and Alfred's stomachs but Ivan didn't care because his own seed continued to fill Alfred as he rocked into him and worshiped his body.

"Alfred! My love!" Ivan cried out as he came for the fourth time. Each time he made love to his bride his pace grow rougher and harder, Alfred already being stretched out previously the king felt it that he hadn't needed to go slower any more. He made sure to take care of him. There was no blood and no pain laced in Alfred's face.

Ivan made love six times to his bride before he felt the weariness of exhaustion weighing down on him. His elbows buckled and his chest collided with Alfred's. The boy grunted out but refused to push away. He lay there under Ivan exhausted himself. He had not spilt his seed as much as Ivan and after their fifth time making love the boy never grew as hard from the weariness lapping at him.

Kissing the boy's sweaty dry lips Ivan inhaled those heavy pants, so warm and tasted so sweet. Alfred was looking at him again, his eyes still dull but he was looking at him. Trembling fingers caressed his face and then his kiss-swollen lips.

"You're the best thing, the very best thing that ever came out of that kingdom," Ivan swore as he pressed his forehead to Alfred's and closed his eyes to take in his warmth and the feel of continuing to remain inside him even though he had lost his hardness long ago.

The ache of his heart had never felt so good before. Ivan had used to hate the organ and its pain it continually caused him from his separation from Alfred, now it was sated as was he, and the burning and clenching he felt right now was so good that he kissed his bride with so much passion that he managed to make love to him once more. The seventh time was short but the tears slipping down from Ivan's face fell happily atop Alfred's cheeks as the boy kept his eyes on him.

When exhaustion finally took a hold of King Ivan he fell hard to its encasing shackles. Falling atop Alfred he had fallen into slumber. His dream was pleasant and the warm body lain underneath him provided him with security. Alfred was finally his in name and body and there was no way he'd ruin it. He would always love the boy, no matter what he did.

His dream dancing around his head as the morning arose and cast a white light upon his city. The dream beheld a loving Alfred who would reach out to kiss Ivan, who would spread his legs for him, who would moan for him, who would whisper of how much he loved him and how much he admired him. One would never want to leave such a dream but at the memory of last night Ivan willingly did so and when he opened his eyes he found that he had not moved and that Alfred remained underneath him, his head turned and his eyes still open.

Ivan wondered if the boy had even slept.

"Samuel James Jones. Jonathan George Jones. Amelia Allison Jones. Jan William Jones. Those all came out of the kingdom too, and they were the best," Alfred suddenly spoke even those his face was turned from Ivan.

The king had just pulled himself from the boy and moved to his side when he heard him say this. He stopped and gapped at his words. He was responding to something Ivan had exclaimed the previous night.

Alfred's family, of course he would still have them dwell in his thoughts, but Ivan disliked that they continue to remain in on their wedding night. Leaning over Ivan kissed Alfred's sternum and caressed his shoulder.

"My love, they are gone, and they are not the ones I wanted," Ivan said with a soft smile and another kiss to Alfred's broad shoulder.

Alfred remained silent and refused to meet Ivan's gaze. His chest rose and fell evenly but from the feel of his heart Ivan could tell the boy was distraught inside. Had Ivan's lovemaking not helped sate the boy enough?

"My love," Ivan reached over and wiped Alfred's bangs out of his eyes. "I know you are saddened by their loss. It is only natural, but it has been such a long time. They are nothing but bones now."

"Do you feel nothing for the dead then?" Alfred asked, his tone pitching slightly as his shoulders stiffened under Ivan's touch.

"Da, of course I do. I am capable of grief too, Alfred. When you father denied me you I was heartbroken. This is why you are here with me. If something were to happen to you then I would be very sad," Ivan explained as he caressed the boy's jaw and pulled him so that he may turn to look at him.

Alfred's eyes met Ivan's. They glistened with unshed tears. He didn't look happy at all, not even after everything Ivan had done for him last night. It was almost as if Ivan's love wasn't enough for him—was it?

"Are you happy knowing that you've taken everything from me?" Alfred asked. His eyes searched Ivan's for an answer when the king remained silent. With a sad smile the boy turned his head away and stared up at the incense bowl hanging above the bed. "I . . . can never be happy unless I am gone too."

Ivan was confused by Alfred's statement. He rolled the words over in his head trying to make sense of them but he hadn't gotten time when Alfred raised his arm that had been hidden from view. In his hand he held a dagger. Ivan hadn't known where he had gotten it, but he was still too late to grab for it when suddenly Alfred plunged it into his own heart.

"ALFRED!" Ivan screamed in horror. He should have left the blade in the wound. He knew better, but in his panic he pulled it out and now the blood gushed out all over Alfred's chest, onto the bed, onto Ivan.

The queen coughed out the blood drowning him and his eyes looked up at Ivan once more. In panic Ivan placed his hand over the wound and attempted to freeze it over, but no matter what it continued to melt and now the melted ice began running down with the hot blood surrounding them.

"Nyet . . . NYET!" Ivan cried out when Alfred's eyes met his own and the boy smiled. He smiled in his death. The gleam had never returned but even as the life left his eyes the sadness in them remained. Now Alfred was limp in his arms.

"Sire, what is wrong?" The head servant, Toris, came in using his spare key and when he dashed inside he gasped seeing what had happened. "Sire, are you hurt?"

Physically? No, but emotionally, mentally? Yes. How could Alfred have done this to him? Had he not loved him enough? Had he not given him anything? What had he done wrong? He was going to give him his city back. He was going to let him govern his people. Why? WHY?

"Alfred," Ivan cried out as his tears fell on the boy's paling face, holding him close only to feel that warmth fading.

The last of the monarchy of Americana was gone.

"I loved you! I loved you!" Ivan cried out as he rocked the lifeless body in his arms. He didn't care if he was soaked in his nakedness in the blood of his beloved. He didn't want to let go of him, of his bride, his queen, his prince, his sunshine, his Alfred.

Why did nothing ever go as Ivan wanted? What did the gods have against him? First they curse him with his icy touch and then with the love of someone he cannot have. How cruel, how so very cruel.

But Alfred was beautiful, even in death. Lain out on a stone bed in the royal mausoleum with a veil blanket over the top of him he lay as if sleeping. Hands clasp over his chest and the crown given to him on his wedding day still lain on his head. Dressed in the finest clothing, Alfred wore the colors of his kingdom like he had on his wedding day because Ivan knew he would have wanted it.

Everyone blamed Ivan for the boy's death. All of those hate-filled glares bore into his back as King Ivan stood before his deceased queen and wept over his fallen form. The guests remained quiet as Ivan lifted the veil and leaned over to offer Alfred one last kiss before stepping away.

The royal mausoleum remained in the castle's courtyard where the snow continued to fall and so not many of the guests stayed for very long. Ivan remained there in the cold despite the risk on his life. He had never died before from the cold of his land, in fact this blizzard had ushered in his birth and had not ceased since. He would be fine, besides, he could not keep his eyes off of his bride. He looked so lonely laying there amongst the dead of Ivan's family—his father and mother, his sisters.

As pale as death he still retained some of that glow he once held in life. His hair remained just as vibrant, his form still sturdy and strong. A complete contrast to the family he was surrounded by. Now that Ivan thought about it the rest of his family had shared the same traits; Princess Amelia and Prince Jan both shared the same golden hue of hair as their brother; Prince Jonathan had the same smile as Alfred as well as strong frame, their father, his eyes and height as well as his personality, all of it he had given his second born to inherit. They were a lovely family now that Ivan had the time to dwell on it. He might have been so angry at King Samuel for denying Alfred from him but he knew he had been a good father to his children, loving and raising them well in morals and conviction, and a loving husband to his wife, Queen Alice had always been the happiest wife among the rest of the spouses of royals, Ivan saw all of this now.

He had never really wanted to take Alfred away, had he? He wanted to combine into their family, not Alfred into his. Ivan had lost his family he should have known how horrible it was to be the last one left. He should have known Alfred might be so unhappy that . . . Closing his eyes Ivan bowed his head and cursed to the gates of hell his blindness.

A soft shuffle was heard beside Ivan and the chattering of teeth. Opening his eyes he turned to see King Yao, dressed in heavy furs, and hugging himself to keep warm. The Asian was looking toward Alfred's form before turning to Ivan.

"I am sorry," he offered.

Ivan was surprised by the sincerity in Yao's voice. He sounded as if he was honestly sad about Ivan's predicament. The rest laughed at him, Ivan didn't hear the voiced laughter but he could feel it. Word of Alfred's suicide spread quickly and all the blame was pointed toward King Ivan.

"I know this may sound rude, but . . ." King Yao shook his body to try to get warm before looking over toward Ivan expectantly. "Could you possibly help me with the slaves. The Americanan slaves. They're unhappy over Alfred's death. They blame you, and in so lash out at me, your ally."

King Ivan didn't care about Yao's problems. Settling slave uprising was simple, but even so Ivan found himself saying, "Send them to my territory then." Right after he had said that an idea to calm their upset over their last Prince's death came into mind. It was a strange thought and one he knew was not his own.

Looking toward Alfred he wondered if his passed on spirit had placed it there. With a smile Ivan nodded and turned to leave.

Out of his kingdom he took Alfred. He'd frozen him to stop the decay and rot of his body. King Ivan wanted the boy's people to look upon him like they had before and remember his face and see that it had not changed.

In a large field just outside the fallen white city he laid him for all of his people to see. The slaves wept over him in bitter sadness but they did not turn on Ivan like the king had thought and brought his army for. No, it seemed they understood his sorrow over the death as well.

It was Americanan tradition to bury their dead, even the monarchy of the kingdom were buried, and so that is what Ivan did. It was hard to watch as his beloved was laid in the ground and then covered over but he felt Alfred would have wanted it and by doing this the slaves looked at King Ivan differently. They said nothing about it but later their thanks of his actions began to show.

The people helped without complain to rebuild the white city. Ivan wanted it restored to its original glory in honor of his deceased queen. It was and when Ivan beheld its finished form for the first time since before it had fallen he almost cried. That day he had walked throughout the entire city, his hand touching its white walls and buildings where Alfred had grown with his family.

He had found himself in that city often. Up high in the royal palace. The building had been destroyed during Ivan's conquest and the stained glasses all shattered save one: the one of King Samuel and his family. The window was then removed and placed in the throne room. The throne room was Ivan's but he never sat upon the chair, instead he continued to gaze at the glass and all its hued light. Standing in King Samuel's light it was white, standing in Queen Alice's light it was violet, standing in Crown Prince Jonathan's light it was scarlet, standing in Princes Amelia's light it was pink, and standing in Prince Jan's light it was blue. Prince Alfred standing next to his brother up there, he shined a beautiful gold, the color of his eyes near the same color as his live form—as his once live form.

Ivan stood in the gold the most and stared at the glass. He would for long hours before leaving. He would never stay in the palace and more oft than not he opted to remain very little in the city as if he was some foreigner. His actions puzzled the people until their tolerance for him grew so high that they bade him stay.

"This is your city, Americanans," King Ivan would explain to the people and with those words he'd leave.

A curious thing happened upon the day the city had been declared finished. Up from the grave of the Americanan's last prince sprouted strange flowers, ones such never before seen in any land. They were very tall and their petals shined like the golden sun above which they faced.

King Ivan had grabbed one and inhaled its scent. He smiled at the familiarity of it and suddenly he was taken back to his wedding night and the smell therein of his bride as he made love to him. Tears fell into the disk of the flower at the memory Ivan had wished to forever forget because when he remembered that night of passion he would remember the morning after.

Pushing aside the stalks Ivan found the golden statue placed as Alfred's grave marker, a statue carved in the likeness of the deceased as he lay down upon a bed like he had in the mausoleum, forever sleeping. With a fond smile Ivan placed the flower down upon the carved hands.

"Are these yours, Fredka? They smell just like you." Ivan reached out and ran his knuckles over the carved cheek of the face of Alfred. "What a pleasant present. I like them very much."

The flowers brought many spectators from all over, but it was the Americanan people who would take them and tell their children who had brought them. They told them that the flower was a gift from the last prince of their once glorious and ruling Kingdom and that they were to care for the blossoms in honor of him. So they did. Every day many of the people would exit the city and tend to the plants and soon the field was overlain with these flowers resembling the sun.

Standing atop the city where the palace lay was truly a beautiful sight. Endless rows of a sea of these flowers covered the ground from as far as the eye could see. There were places the flowers steered clear of like the road and then that of Alfred's golden grave marker. Ivan could see it shining amongst the flowers where the stalks gathered together mostly as if Alfred himself had grown them. Perhaps he had, the people seemed to believe it and so maybe Ivan should too.

King Ivan wondered why he continued on after Alfred had been dead for years. He remembered before, during the war, Ivan could hardly breathe without Alfred by his side and now that he is no longer of the living why was Ivan, himself, still full of breath? It made no sense to him but inwardly he felt that Alfred's spirit had led him, wishing him to rebuild his city of birth and to make his people happy.

In time Ivan had freed the slaves and they merged quietly into his own kingdom. He had forbidden his own people from abusing them the way they used to and now they had full rights as citizens of Russ. They continued to claim to be Americanans, but Ivan worried not about it. They worked, they willingly learned his kingdom's language, they did not fight with his people, and they took care of Alfred's city and grave. What more could he ask of them if not those things?

"I am almost there, Alfred," Ivan said as he rubbed the golden statue of his slumbering love. Years upon years had passed but still the people remembered Alfred and what their last prince looked like thanks to the statue Ivan had provided. They still came and paid their respects, dragging their children along to show them him so that they too may do the same with their children. The Americanan Prince was now passed into legend and numerous tales came up about the boy, some Ivan remembered to be true and some not so close to real accounts, but harmless otherwise. Ivan was glad for the remembrance and wondered if anyone would be so kind to remember him like that. Honestly, he didn't care.

"I think I want to lay next to you when it happens, you wouldn't mind, would you, Alfred?"

Ivan had converted to the Americanan God in hopes of forgiveness and mercy and a chance to be beside Alfred and his family. He didn't know if their God would allow him to, but Ivan was paying penance, ever since Alfred had died he was trying. He knew now that he deserved to be eternally parted from him in this life and the next but deep inside he hoped, something he's never had much of.

"Do you think that maybe you have forgiven me yet, my love?" Ivan frowned, looking down at the statue and feeling his heart clench at the memory of holding that small body in his arms as the life slipped from it. Ivan was afraid. He didn't know anything about the afterlife, no one did. He didn't know if he would find Alfred there even after believing in the same heaven as he did. He didn't know if Alfred was even watching over him like he often felt despite his disbelief that someone who had not loved him in this life would ever watch over him. But still, he felt his words changing, his thoughts breaking away from the usual dark ideas and the way he was ruling his kingdom was something else entirely. He felt Alfred would have ruled this way and everything he did was in remembrance of his queen, his beautiful bride.

The Kingdom of Russ believed in gods but they also believed in reincarnation, that once you die you would be reborn in another life, the same in appearance, but different name possibly, different parents, different kingdoms. King Ivan had wanted to hold onto that religion for the hope that he would see his bride again but out of just that he turned to the Kingdom of Americana's gods and thought of death and the life thereafter. Their heaven sounded nice. If Ivan could live in a paradise with Alfred for eternity then he knew he must have done something right in his life.

He prayed that were the case. He didn't care if no one came to his funeral, if his people placed his body to rot on the side of the street. As long as he was allowed entrance into that paradise to look into those beautiful eyes and to see that smile then all his struggles and torment on earth would seem like a far off dream.

"Just a little longer now," Ivan swore as he grew in years, his eyes never leaving the statue of his beloved in his monthly visits.

Of course King Ivan never saw his transformation from that of a tyrant king to that of a fair and just king like his people and the subjects under him. Nor did he hear the prayers of the young and old praying that their now adored king would find peace in his end.

King Ivan felt it but never acknowledged the ghostly presence of a summer breeze warming him when he laid in bed and giving him pleasant dreams and delightful thoughts and plans.

The prayers offered up to the gods seeking their approval of King Ivan were part Alfred's as well.

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><p><strong><span>DOTR<span>:**** Just thought I'd let you guys know that Alfred's family come mostly from American Icons. His father, King Samuel, yep, Uncle Sam, his older brother is a character once called Brother Jonathan who was actually used to depict the U.S. before Uncle Sam took over the face of the country. Amelia is, ya know, NyoAmerica, and his mother is NyoEngland. His little brother Jan is actually Yankee Doodle, being that Yankee is actually a Dutch nickname for Jan like Johnny is for John. I got the idea of his siblings like this from a fic I've also got in the works and thought I'd use it in here. Thanks for reading, loves!**


	2. is in the Fault of its King

**Daughter Of The Revolution****: This one's for GreenAppleAddict who had wanted a POV of Alfred. Sorry it had been such a long time coming. I wrote this ages ago for you and just forgot to upload it. It's not as long as the previous chapter full of Ivan's POV but, meh, here it is. Hope you enjoy the peek into Alfred's head during his ordeal!**

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><p>While the rest of the families who would lie, swindle, frame, and murder just to get the chance to sit upon the throne, Alfred was glad to have been born the second prince. Not only did he evade pressure from the courts but also the burden of sitting amongst the lords and ambassadors and other monarchies to settle issues with territory and trade and all the headaches. Being second meant no one would press for him to wed quickly. Being second meant no one would press for him to produce sons in need of heirs for the bloodline.<p>

No, he was free of all those burdening expectations; he, Prince Alfred, the 1,776th prince of Americana.

As he grew he suspected that the nobles and even the people wished his birth order to be traded with his older brother for the sole reason that Alfred possessed a gift from their God and his brother, Crown Prince Jonathan, did not. To be honest, Alfred felt that the strength of the gods was useless in ruling a country and being its king compared to the scores of wisdom and discernment which his brother possessed. Alfred often expressed this opinion of his to the people but their continuance to worship him reasoned with his conscience that his supporting words for his brother's right to rule fell on deaf ears. It was all harmless praise though because his brother was still Crowned Prince and the people held a love for him as well.

The Americana monarchy prided itself in being close to its people being that the royal family were often seen amongst and in the streets, purchasing local produce, playing with the children, conversing with merchants, etc. Because of this Alfred knew every citizen in the capital city in which he was born and raised. The same was expected of him in other cities that his parents took him to to live for a time. There were times of course where Alfred and his siblings would have to stay inside the palace walls but that was only for school. Other times it was because of travel. Mostly, Alfred's father, King Samuel, traveled out to respond politely to invitations written by other rulers. Some occasions he would take with him his entire family, like, to see his mother's brother who ruled the kingdom of Britannia or to see his father's sister who was wed to the King of Canadiana.

The kings and queens wanted to get their children better bonded with their cousins. That was really the only reason for the young princes and princesses to travel. The other occasion would be the coronation of a new king. They don't happen often and so, be it a rival kingdom or not, most monarchy attend in due respect. Alfred only ever saw one and the only thing he remembered about it was that it was long and boring, but the food was tasty.

The young prince felt it easier to stay in the palace and in the city and let the lords and ladies visit them. Some would but when, say, a king or queen did then Alfred and his siblings would be told to stay in the nursery and to leave their father be because he was dealing with "important matters." Jonathan was always a good boy but Alfred had the tendency to forget his mother's orders and little Amelia was always following him around. So it just so happened to be the both of them to get their bottoms paddled for playing near the throne room while their father conversed with a king. Alfred more so for being a bad influence on his little sister.

His father had been more so upset. He usually never aways he attention from the guest he spoke with, especially if they were a king or queen, but he had gotten up from his throne and taken a hold of Alfred, pulling him out of the throne room and away from the eyes of the tall king he had been speaking with when Alfred and Amelia's playful giggles and adventurous sword play fight interrupted the rulers. Alfred had never seen his father so upset with him before. He looked absolutely furious but then all at the same time he looked frightened.

"Don't ever do that again, Alfred," His father bade with a firm shake. "Don't you let him see you. Don't you let him see you."

Alfred's father was the highest king in the land. Nothing frightened him because he was strong and had the most territory so Alfred was in a worried confusion trying to figure out what had distraught his calm demeanor. Later that day Alfred's faith in his father returned after observing from the nursery balcony as the king his father had been speaking to left quite quickly with his entourage in tow. He looked upset with his tense stride but just as soon as he reached the palace gates he stopped and turned. He looked up and saw Alfred.

Suddenly remembering his father's foreboding words Alfred dunked down to hide himself so to not let the king see him per his father's desperate wish. Seconds later he peeked back up to see if they had gone. They hadn't and the king was still looking toward him. This time he looked quite sad instead of the upset Alfred had previously witnessed. Alfred didn't know why but he dunked himself again into hiding and watched through the railing as the king slowly turned back around and finally left.

That was another reason why Alfred was glad he was second prince; he wouldn't have to concern himself with the customs of entertaining other kings and queens and steering himself from all haughty and offensive behavior and language. Jonathan could have it.

To avoid his father's wrath of interrupting him with his meeting and his mother's hand for leading his little sister into trouble again Alfred took to the city streets to play around. He made many friends young and old but his closest friend was a boy around his age by the name of David, or Davie as Alfred called him. Every day Alfred would come to his family's bakery and buy a cart full of bread that he ate all himself. The two would then run around the city playing heroic knight and bandit. Alfred was always the knight and Davie settled with the title of bandit fine.

Sometimes they even snuck outside the city walls to roll around in the mud and pick flowers. Davie liked them a lot and said he wanted to be a gardener. So Alfred swore he'd make him his royal gardener when he inherited a manor to the west of their territory. Davie liked that idea.

With the rapid expansion of the Kingdom of Americana there was many people coming in and out of the city and Alfred became well known by the travelers and his face was recognized throughout the kingdom. He was a star amongst his siblings and cousins and ranked as a favorite prince throughout the kingdoms. Not many people hated Alfred but as for his father and power of his kingdom that was an entirely different story.

Alfred still remembered the year leading up to the war.

"You're moving, Davie?" They had both just turned nine years of age and now Alfred's best friend had to ruin his birthday with this bad news.

"My father has been wanting to venture north," Davie explained. When news of the new settlement came many people jumped to be a part of it, and Davie's family was among them.

"Then I want to go too," Alfred pouted.

"You belong here," Davie reasoned. "There's no place for a prince in a settlement."

"Promise me you'll let me visit?" Alfred bade. Davie smiled and nodded.

Alfred never got the chance to visit before the settlement in the north was destroyed and war was declared. Alfred had been heartbroken over the loss of his friend and whole heartedly supported his father's declaration. Now he couldn't wait to grow and begin training as a knight so he could avenge his friend's death as well as the others who died with him, and of course uphold the honor of his kingdom.

From history Alfred knew his kingdom had not lost a war in a long time. They had never gotten into a war with the Kingdom of Russ before and when Alfred realized who the king of said kingdom was he understood their conflict. As far as Alfred knew his father and the King of Russ, King Ivan, have been on nonspeaking terms for three years. Remembering how upset the king looked when Alfred had spied a glance at him all those years ago from the nursery balcony he felt it had only been a matter of time before the two declared war to ease their internal tensions with the other.

Border issues, that's what his brother informed him. But Alfred did not see the Russes killing innocent civilians as acceptable with the excuse that they were protecting their borders. He shared his father's anger in that, but Jonathan continually bade for negotiations and for peace. They never came and now Alfred was a knight in full title and the war had come on ten years.

Alfred's mother wished he not become a knight like his brother but Alfred wanted to help finish this war and he knew with his God-blessed strength he could and so he fought and he fought hard.

It hurt to lose a battle and retr—run away like a coward, but losing lives that could have been saved hurt worse. His heart for his men was adored and the worry of his mother was misplaced. He had yet to sustain an injury in battle and felt himself truly blessed. That thought shot right out the window when a blade cut in between his shoulder armor. After his fall his men panicked even though Alfred insisted they press forward. They never did and they lost the battle.

Alfred was taken to a fort-city to heal. He healed fast but his father and his brother insisted he remain in the city to heal fully and rest. His injury had scared his family and they were not so eager that he return to the front as he was from reading their letters.

He decided to heed their concern but regretted it in the end.

His older brother had taken his place on the front and was slain. Alfred and their kingdom mourned his loss. He'd been so heartbroken that he refused to sleep and instead trained for their next battle. Intelligence never came in to inform Alfred of the battlefield because they'd all been slain and it was a screaming woman that Alfred knew as Martha from their capital city who came crying to their fort-city exclaiming that the White City was under siege.

Alfred never asked for his men to come but their steeds followed close behind as he drove his horse to death to make it to the capital city. He didn't care if shouldn't have come, his family was in that city. He was the only one who could save them.

The only largest object Alfred could think about that he moved with his strength was the cobbler's house. It had been Davie's idea since the old shoemaker's home sat near a vacant lot. One day they'd move it left. The next he'd move it across the street. Just the look on that befuddled man's face was enough to keep he and Davie giggling for weeks. Now Alfred's fist brought down the White City's wondrous marble gate.

It didn't take long for the pike men to take out his steed. He had flipped over the soldiers and managed to avoid their spear heads, some of his men weren't so lucky. Taking out his sword Alfred swung it so hard the first line of pike men were thrown away. Now Alfred and his men fought their way up toward the palace.

The entire city was overrun with Russ soldiers. The sounds of dying and decimated citizens rung in Alfred's ears as well as the dying gasps of his knights behind him. The prince had to press on. He had to get his to his family and nothing would stop him.

Offering up prayers to his God, Alfred fought on. His arms grew heavier and now he could no longer feel the weight of his sword in his hands. Looking down he found the weapon to be gone. He must have dropped it long ago. Even a man blessed with the strength of gods exhausted to a point and Alfred was tired. Looking up he realized he still had more ways to go before he reached the palace. It seemed so far away and so many obstacles stood in between.

With a heavy sigh of weariness Alfred took his opponents. He could see their unease in surrounding him. He knew of their fear of him and he planned to use their superstition against them if it would help him continue to fight to his family.

With a start Alfred turned himself around quickly at the sound of clapping. The soldiers now parted to reveal the form of a large man dressed in dark armor. The breastplate encrusted with rubies and diamonds. Sashes, a golden crown in design of the Kingdom of Russ; King Ivan looked every bit a crowned ruling monarch. The only article that looked out of place in all his majestic glory was a worn scarf wrapped around his neck but Alfred barely had time to concern himself with the fashion of the Russ monarchy as the king approached him.

Alfred hadn't expected to see him there in the besieged city. The King of Russ had never inserted himself in any previous battle. This had been the first time Alfred had actually laid eyes on him in the flesh. The portraits and sketches did not capture the sheer menace in the man's aura and Alfred, for the first time in years, found himself shaken with fright.

"Bravo, Prince Alfred," the enemy king said. His voice was deep but held a small playful tone in its pitch. It confused Alfred and let him know to keep his guard up. "Oh, or should I address you as King Alfred?" The mocking tone made Alfred sick to his stomach and his fists clenched with the need to lay against the man's skull. He could do it. He could leave the Kingdom of Russ with no king. Alfred knew Ivan was the last. It would be so easy right now. Why he remained silent battled him.

The King of Russ smiled at his reaction to the address in title. "Big brother is dead as well as the father." No! He was lying. "So," Ivan held out his arms as if in exclamation. "Congratulations in your inheritance, though I wouldn't know a soul who would want to be king over this piece of ruble."

The White City, Alfred's kingdom's pride and joy was reduced to a pile of ash. Bodies littered the streets. Blood ran down the steps of the palace. Gone, everything was gone. Alfred's family . . .

Turning toward the king who looked quite pleased with his triumph over the enemy city an anger arose inside Alfred. He needed to avenge his family's honor, to make this foreign king fear Alfred's bloodline. The bloodline he so foolishly cut.

"You son of a bitch!"

Alfred attacked. He aimed for the king, looking to break his skull right off his spine but the king was quicker than he assumed he was. Alfred found armored fist striking air, building, even other soldiers who had been unfortunate to stand in Alfred's way on his assault on the king.

His eyes stung and his face felt hot with exertion but Alfred continued to charge the King. Just one hit. Just one hit and he'd be dead.

Alfred's eyes widened when the king reached out and caught his arm as it swung toward his frame. In horror he watched as ice crept up his gauntlet freezing it at the joint, the chill biting into his arm. Alfred pulled his arm away and hugged it close to his chest upon observing that the king had taken off one of his own gauntlets, the palm of his pale hand covered in frost.

Alfred knew he was gifted by his God, but there were other gods with entire countries devoted to them. There was no doubt in his mind that those other gods would bless and curse their worshipping subjects. He just hadn't known that King Ivan was one of them.

Alfred could not fight an element, not even with the strength of every god known to existence. But Alfred could not escape. Looking around it seemed as if King Ivan's entire army surrounded him. Was Alfred really the last standing Americanan in the city? His heart sank at the thought.

"You see?" Alfred turned back to the king, eyeing him warily. He did not envision meeting his end with chill and ice. "You are not the only one possessing an unworldly ability." The "Blessed" that is what people like Alfred and Ivan were called. They were very rare, more so for monarchies.

Alfred gapped at seeing the king bend down to press his palm against the street. As expected ice formed around until it crept up toward him and touched his boot. Alfred jumped up and pressed himself against a building wall to avoid the ice underfoot.

"Give up, Alfred, I have won." As if King Ivan could use his name casually without its honorary prefix like a close friend. Alfred glared at him in hate. The king, however, continued, "The war is over." He began to trek closer toward Alfred. The prince really had nowhere to run and so he tensed when the tall king stood before him, looking at him so strangely. Then he touched him but Alfred swore to stand his ground and not turn away in cowardice. "There is nothing for you here anymore," King Ivan said to him as if he needed to convince Alfred. "The monarchy has died. The people my slaves. Without a functioning kingdom your colonies will perish."

Alfred knew this. King Ivan did not need to remind him of the harsh reality. Americana had lost the war as well as its life. The kingdom Alfred so loved was gone and he feared would never come back. Their numerous enemies would never allow its resurrection and the people without an heir to the throne would despair and instead weep in remembrance than exclaim in hope of return.

"Then why not kill me too? !" Alfred hated crying because tears made people look weak. His father had told him to never let the people see such moisture on his face because he was their prince and hero, and neither were capable of producing tears. Even when relatives passed away Alfred was sworn to stay dry-eyed. But he was crying not only for the decimation of the royal bloodline but for the fall of the Kingdom of Americana. Oh, the land that Alfred loved and his heart beat for and so many have died for. All in vain now. All in vain. How could Alfred accept that? He couldn't and so he could not accept Russ as his new Kingdom. "I'll be a horrible slave, you hear me!" Alfred swore to create a hell for whoever purchased him. He'd do it where they'd have to kill him. He would die if he was enslaved, he knew it. Freedom to enslavement? Alfred would rather die.

"I know you will," King Ivan responded to his threat with a simple chuckle as if he didn't believe Alfred, well the last Prince of Americana was dead serious. "But, you'll make a lovely bride." What did he just say? Alfred must have heard wrong. The king was a liar anyway.

"What are you say—AH!" Alfred jumped from the wall as ice crept up the wall as well but to his horror the ice reached out to him, forming arms and a body along with it. The thing looked like King Ivan as it wrapped its arms around his breastplate. He could feel his armor locking up from the chill. Alfred had never felt so utterly helpless in his life.

"I have waited thirteen years, Fredka," King Ivan said as his ice clone carried Alfred closer to the frost king. You have waited for me too, da?"

The king was insane but Alfred was powerless to stop him from leaning in closer and pressing his lips to his. Alfred had never kissed before in his life. It was expected seeing how the war consumed most of his teenaged life. The fact that his first kiss was taken had not bothered him. Not only were his lips cold, making Alfred feel as if they absorbed the very heat from his own but afterwards a frost forming and yet he could not pull away because of the ice man holding him. The tongue that later pressed into his mouth was even more cold, feeling like an icicle.

No, this couldn't be happening to him. King Ivan was a liar. He hated Americanans especially the monarchy which he killed and would undoubtedly kill Alfred as well. He was bad blood to the King of Russ, nothing but a spot to cleanse from the earth. He did not care for him and he certainly did not want to wed him. Alfred had been hearing things. He had all day. He could still hear the cries of his people now but he knew they were faux sounds because everyone in the city was dead. Dead. Just like his mother, his father, his sister, his brothers.

"Do not cry, my love. I will take care of you." The King of Russ sounded sincere but it was all lies because the King of Kingdom of Russ was a liar. His father told him so.

"You killed them all," Alfred cried out. He was sobbing now and with this weakening sorrow enveloping his body the aches of the battle panged throughout his body and he shook in his loud sobs as hot tears ran down his cheeks. "My family." The sobs leaving Alfred's mouth were pathetic but that was what he felt—pathetic.

"Da," came the ice king's answer like it was a casual subject. "It was because they got in our way, my love. It is best that they're gone."

Before Alfred knew it he was falling. The ice man holding him had released him and he fell right into that mad king's arms. He couldn't move. He could feel the stiffness in his armor.

"This city's mine, Alfred," King Ivan spoke up.

Alfred could feel his chilling hand running through his hair, freezing the golden strands, but Alfred was never chilled for long. Some king of heat inside him melted the frost played across his skin. To Alfred's dismay the frozen armor stayed in its frozen state.

"If you wish I can give it to you as a wedding present. It can be your summer home, da?" Alfred felt utterly sick but more so distraught with sorrow. He could not stop sobbing. "Please, my love, the sight of your tears hurt me." Again, King Ivan sounded sincere in his plead for Alfred to cease his tears but his concern was twisted. This man killed Alfred's family, why would he expect him to remain solemn? No, the horrors he's seen and heard. The sight of his White City, the news of his family. Those dead in the streets could not offer their God up any tears and so Alfred did. He sobbed as he was stripped of his golden armor and bound.

He was taken to King Ivan's capital city. Alfred had never seen it before. He's heard accounts of its icy walls and eternal snowfall. Now those accounts were verified as Alfred examined for himself the blizzard surrounding the city.

Even if the king had explained his want to wed the disheartened Americanan, Alfred had expected to be placed in a dungeon. Why? Because King Ivan was a liar and all he wanted of Alfred was to see him tortured and broken so to downgrade the fallen Americanan Kingdom even more. No, Alfred was placed in a comfortable room and given servants to wait upon. Little by little Alfred was beginning to realize King Ivan did indeed intend to wed him.

The notion baffled Alfred. Monarch marriages were for alliances and territory only. The dealings with heirs always came later. Alfred had nothing to offer the King of Russ. He was no longer entitled to any honorary name. He certainly had no territory to give the King. As for alliances, how could a kingdom ally itself with a fallen kingdom?

Alfred was confused and mostly homesick. All of Alfred's windows were covered white with snow. The windows pointed southward where his once kingdom lay. Alfred missed it to death. His longing often tricked his body into skipping meals, many meals.

The servants tried their best to coax him to eat but Alfred opted to stare out those windows toward his kingdom than offer his defeated body any sustenance. It didn't take long for the servants' complaints to reach the king's ear and when he showed up at Alfred's room the boy was surprised. What did he care if Alfred starved anyways? But the king forced him to eat. He sometimes used his ice clone to hold Alfred down and force the food into his mouth. He didn't like Russ food.

"My love, are you trying to kill yourself? Eat."

The king was in his room again. Alfred hated his visits so he continued to lay on his bed with his back turned to the king standing with a steaming bowl of soup. Even though he did not struggle again Alfred could not bring himself to look at the king.

To his surprise there was no force feed this time. No, instead Ivan laid himself next to him and touched and kissed him. Alfred was beginning to get used to this. After every force feed King Ivan would touch him and give him a kiss to his food-smeared lips.

But Alfred was not fond of Ivan's cold hands against his skin. He grabbed his wrist. He didn't know why. Alfred honestly didn't know why he continued to struggle. He wouldn't be able to escape this place, the winter storm outside would not allow him to.

The king chilled him. Alfred knew it was a sign for him to let go but Alfred wondered what it would be like . . . to snap off the king's hands. Would he still be able to use his God-abilities?

Alfred just let go. It didn't matter what the king did to him. Nothing mattered anymore to the Americanan. Well, maybe one thing: the truth. Constantly the king would lie to him and because of it Alfred continually found his heart sunken, especially right now when Ivan said, "I love you, Alfred. Know this. Everything I did, I did for you."

Was the King of Russ that deranged?

"Killing my family and then tearing me from my kingdom was your way of telling me you love me?"

When Alfred was looking up at the king he felt his eyes sting. He looked utterly pathetic in front of the King of Russ but he couldn't seem to understand the king at all and it hurt so much to be lied to.

Of course King Ivan simply smiled at him, like he always does.

"You may not remember this, Fredka, but when you were very young you attended my coronation," King Ivan said. Alfred vaguely remembered the one he went to with his parents and siblings. Amelia was just a toddler around that time. "The very moment my eyes beheld your beauty I fell in love with you." Alfred was, what, five years old? "I politely approached your father and asked for you hand in marriage. In my show of respect for you I offered gems, gold, silver, thousands of miles of territory, but do you know what your father said, hm?"

Wait, King Ivan came to his kingdom only once as Alfred recalled. It was when . . . no . . . was that when Ivan . . .?

"He denied me you in favor that you wed one more your age. How cruel, da? To deny the one I love from me."

Why hadn't Alfred's father told him this? Was that the reason for their war? Could all that have been avoided if Alfred would have been given to King Ivan to wed?

"So you started a war," Alfred reasoned from his revelations.

"Ah, your father started the war by moving settlements into my territory," so said the King. "I was simply defending my borders but, Alfred, you must know that a call to war allows many things."

The king went on to explain the ways of war. Alfred knew all of it which was why he trembled with the need to cry. Ivan simply kissed him in a way Alfred assumed to comfort. Nothing about him or his explanation was comforting.

Pulling away Alfred turned his eyes from the king. Now he understood why his father had been so afraid to give him to King Ivan.

"My father knew what he was doing when he refrained me from you." He dared stare the upset king down. "He knew I didn't belong in a cruel kingdom like yours."

Alfred didn't care if he had pushed King Ivan to anger as the older man grabbed a hold of his jaw tightly and bit his frost into his skin. He was now seeing what his father had seen: an angry, dangerous king who would no doubt mistreat his bride . . . especially that of a six year old child bride.

"The wedding will come," King Ivan assured darkly. "Da, you do now and let me make something clear." The king was pressing closer now, lips floating just above Alfred's. "You will swear your loyalty to this _cruel_ _kingdom_ as its Queen. And know that I have every intention on taking what is mine by right on our wedding night."

Did people in Russ threaten those they hailed they loved? Because Alfred had just been threatened about his impending submission. That was all the king wanted, right? Just a puppet queen and a warm body to lay under him.

The King of Russ didn't care.

The King of Russ didn't care about how Alfred felt in his capital city.

The King of Russ didn't care if Alfred hungered for the foods grown in Americanan soil.

The King of Russ didn't care how Alfred's heart continued to sink inside him.

The King of Russ didn't care that Alfred was terrified of the upcoming wedding.

The King of Russ didn't care Alfred was homesick; that all he wanted was to be around his people, if in shackles it mattered not.

That King of Russ didn't care that Alfred was indeed in depressed mourning over the violent loss of his family and kingdom. Perhaps if that king concerned himself more with the reasons Alfred would not speak to him, not look at him, not eat, not sleep then Alfred would press on and remain strong for his people.

If there was one thing Alfred discovered about himself during his enslavement it was of how weak he truly was. Since his birth he had been blessed by their God; ordained as His holy warrior with his given strength. He was near worshiped by his people. Look at him now. Physically he was still strong but all the strength in the world and in heaven above could not fight against the utter despairingly press of emotional turmoil.

Alfred had cried so much he could no longer produce a tear for the lost. Despite seeing tears as a show of weakness Alfred swore he'd cry all he could in honor of those who could not. His heart had taken the most damage aside from his pride. It hurt him every day that it was unbearable. Alfred didn't know what to do and felt that if it didn't heal soon then he'd die.

Once upon a time Alfred had been a firm believer of just deserts; that if you did wrong then you'd be punished and if you did right then you'd be rewarded. Alfred didn't understand; had he done something wrong to deserve this torture of body, mind, and spirit? He should have been killed along with his family. It was only fair, death being an easier release than this continuous hell.

The King of Russ' idea of comfort was misplaced. Alfred felt no ease in his words, his touches, or his kisses. Nothing. His own presence served as an attempted form of comfort, Alfred could see it in the way the king stood near him, but of the reverse reaction Alfred was churning in unease. He could no longer let the pressing weight of his depression lull him to sleep filled with night terrors. Even that luxury was taken from him.

So the days grew longer and the demons stronger.

Alfred longed to see the sun again, but it was hidden behind heavy-laden snow clouds. The prince longed to ride through golden fields of Americana, like the plains the White City once resided on. Hills and mountains of white surrounded the landscape around him now and Alfred was growing sick of the color.

He wanted to feel the rays of the warm sun above and the gentle winds of the south. His skin was much too pale that Alfred liked. He felt he was a living corpse; he felt so little and faded in vibrant hue. For one so proclaiming his love and adoration of him the King of Russ did not seem to hold much concern for his health. Yes he would continue to visit and force the Americanan to feed but of everything else he was blinded.

Did Alfred want him to tell him in assurance that all was well? No.

Did Alfred want him to hold him? No.

Did Alfred want to be showered with rich and expensive gifts to settle him into this new environment? No.

Alfred wanted none of those things. But he needed comfort; a friend to weep with and carry the burden of mourning alongside him because that bitter sadness was killing him and no one saw it.

The servants were all busy with preparations for the upcoming wedding. The cooks were baking, the seamstresses sewing, the chamber servants setting up each room to house nobility. The castle was transformed quite quickly after the wedding date was officially set.

Even King Ivan found himself busy in signing the numerous invitations being sent out in cart-fulls. The change in atmosphere tempted Alfred's body to move and wander throughout the long dark halls. Oh how King Ivan's palace differed from Alfred's. Russ' halls were long and dark, dim candle light as well as tapestry.

Suits of armor bearing weapon aligned the hall Alfred found himself wondering. The design and shape of armor was Russ . . . as everything else was. Continually Alfred felt like a foreigner in this place. Why wouldn't he? An Americanan surrounded by Russ was bound to come off as misplaced. And he was.

Even their art differed. While the once Kingdom of Americana used stained glass to offer portrait for the monarchy the Kingdom of Russ used frames of gold and silver and a plate painted with colored oils.

Alfred was now in a hall bearing so many portraits. He could tell they were that of royalty. It was the King of Russ' family. The most recent shown King Ivan alone in ceremonial garb. Before him there was a portrait of a family. Alfred assumed it to have been the king's parents and siblings.

King Ivan looked like his mother. The previous Queen of Russ sat down in the picture. Next to her stood a small girl who wore the same menacing glare as the father king in the portrait. A younger Ivan stood next to the hard-eyed king while an older sister stood just beside him.

Alfred hadn't known King Ivan had siblings. He had assumed him to have been alone in his family. He had acted as such and so the assumption was quick to rise. They must have passed away some time ago because Alfred had seen none of them in his stay there. He wondered how King Ivan had felt when he lost them. Did he shed any tear? Offer any mournful wail? Leak out any sob? Or . . . had he remained calloused and uncaring like he did the day he killed the family of the one he claimed to love? Alfred envisioned the latter the most.

What troubled Alfred the most was the painted image of the King of Russ' mother. Despite no one offering a smile for the portrait the Queen mother looked morbidly unhappy. The artist of the picture really captured her dissatisfaction. Now a dread began filling Alfred's gut, rising up until it was a bile in his throat. In his mind there was a new image beside the solo portrait of King Ivan, it was that of he and the king, Alfred now officially titled as the Queen of Russ. The future artist had captured their images and their emotions. There stood King Ivan in rich garb looking as regal as ever and his Queen, Alfred, standing by his side with the same look as Ivan's mother. The emotions captured in the portrait were that of sadness, distress, unease, and happiness shattered.

Alfred could not live like that. It wasn't right. Not at all.

Quickly the prince made leave and as soon as he found himself in the cluttered halls being prepared by the servants. He walked around surprisingly unnoticed. Alfred was glad. He wanted to fade away and vanish. He wanted to see just how important he was so claimed to be. He would not be disappointed whatsoever if his memory slipped from the minds of everyone. He deserved it for having failed Americana.

Slipping through another hall, Alfred found himself in a large room. It didn't take long before he realized it was the marital chambers. The servants had just come and gone in the room carrying oils, incense, and treasures to stack up like trophies to woo with. It was a very nice room. The only other room Alfred could hope to compare it with would be that of his mother and father's chambers. Fit for a king and his queen.

Alfred turned to the bed. It was large and draped in dark sheets. That was Alfred's end. King Ivan would take the last of him on that bed on their wedding night. After which Alfred would lose his identity. He would no longer be an Americanan. He would no longer be Prince Alfred as he was born into this world as. He would thence forward be Queen Alfred, a resident of the Kingdom of Russ.

Something wet slid down Alfred's cheek and crashed against marbled floor below. And here the prince thought he could cry no longer. Bowing his head he sobbed. He cried until the servants returned and notified the head servant about Alfred's whereabouts.

"Alfred, you really shouldn't be here," Toris bade as he touched the young boy and attempted to lead him out of the room.

The brunette looked genuinely concerned for the prince, but he could offer no comfort. He knew of the fate awaiting the Americanan Prince, all of the servants did and so no one questioned him when he would visit the room in its process of transformation. They let him do as he pleased even as he slid a small dagger underneath the pillows placed symmetrically on the bed.

As faithful servants they should have warned their king of this possible danger but though the title of servant was given to the workers in the castle they were all conquered slaves—just like Alfred. All of them wished doom on their king and prayed to their gods his bloodline vanish from the face of the earth.

Toris, however, had ceased long ago to hate the king. Yes he came from a conquered kingdom like so many others but he had a good memory. He remembered other such attempts on the king's life, all of which were thwarted. The would-be assassins were frozen solid and shattered into lifeless pieces. He didn't know what would become of Alfred if he so crossed this line. Toris liked the prince, all of the slaves did, he was beautiful and bright, but like the others Toris could not find the courage to offer any warning because he was God-Blessed like King Ivan.

Two Blesseds clashing made it a curse and no one wanted to stand in between either. So, like the others, Toris remained quiet and observing.

Alfred looked magnificently handsome on the wedding day. The royal tailors had done a good job dressing him in the design of his kingdom. But he was quiet; as he was dressed, as he came to stand beside King Ivan, even as the priest looked worried and a little more than reluctant to wed him to his king who refused to swear allegiance vocally. The king however could not wait to make their marriage official and so spoke for Alfred when he was silent because silence was acceptance in the Kingdom of Russ.

His wedding day; one would think Alfred should be happy. Marriage was a sacred allegiance and meant for eternity. Some kingdoms allowed their king to wed more than one bride but Americana and Russ were alike in that their monarchy opted to take on one queen. Even in such Alfred was not at ease at the knowledge that he would be King Ivan's only—until a mother was needed for an heir of course.

Alfred walked to the king, he stood beside him, he did not pull away when their arms were ceremonially bound together, nor when King Ivan pulled him close and kissed him before the entirety of the world. He did all of these motions but Alfred was near dead inside. A hallow shell doing as it was told.

As he sat next to his husband while the wedding feast raged on Alfred's dull eyes scanned all of the guests around. All smiling, laughing, eating, drinking. He couldn't help but feel that this—this marriage between he and King Ivan of Russ—was inescapable. After learning of the King's earlier proposal Alfred felt that King Ivan would have stopped at nothing until Alfred was proclaimed his queen.

Alfred would not have minded wedding him all those years ago. He knew his father was just protecting his innocence and, given his age, it was not proper in Americana that a boy of six years wed. But if that had happened, if his father would have given him away, then his family would have been a part of the crowd gathered. Alfred doubted his mother and father would have offered a smile for the newly wedded but they would be here with them, their presence comforting Alfred as his much older husband held his hand and promised to care for him 'til death.

His big brother would be the one threatening King Ivan to stay good to him while Amelia would likely have been the one to visit Alfred the most in this frozen kingdom. Alfred would not have gotten to grow with Jan but now that Alfred dwelt on these thoughts he soon wished this early marriage had come to pass.

Alfred had been a strong boy, even at that age. He knew he would have been able to cope with a young marriage to Ivan. No, Alfred probably wouldn't have been so close to Amelia. No, Alfred wouldn't have seen Jan's birth. No, there wouldn't have been a friend he called Davie.

Alfred loved his family. He had so many memories made with each of them. Would he have traded all of those pure happy times just so they could live on without any recollection of him?

Yes.

But it was too late for any of those lifesaving choices and now all Alfred wanted to do was be with them again. He's made up his mind and chosen his own salvation from this living hell he's currently trapped in. By now Alfred knew well of his husband. He meant to keep him by his side because he wanted to. Alfred felt no love, no concern. Alfred may be queen of the kingdom but not queen of the king.

Alfred's mother was loved very much by his father. Despite their marriage being arranged King Samuel had been kind to Alice and let love develop in time. Alfred greatly doubted that any love would come from his and Ivan's union. He would not have his parents' marriage.

Fate delivered him into the hands of the King of Russ and if fate would not deliver him out then his heart would stop beating. Alfred knew it. So he would deliver himself out.

Perhaps he should have pulled away from King Ivan as he led them to their marital chambers. Perhaps he should have turned his face away when King Ivan kissed him. Perhaps he should have struggled to keep that King's hands off of his undressed form. But he didn't.

Alfred allowed the ice king to lay atop of him and allowed him to have his way with him. This was all King Ivan wanted wasn't it? He'd taken it. He'd taken Alfred's innocence and with that the last of anything else that belonged to him.

Queen Alfred cried. Everything that he knew and cared for was gone. Taken before its time. Alfred had nothing no matter everything that King Ivan gave him, the servants, the gems, the gold, the furnish, the clothing, none of those things could satisfy him. Alfred longed for his mother to cry into her arms, but instead it was King Ivan would caught his tears with his chilling kisses and cold caresses.

It was then Alfred realized he could never be a queen of the Kingdom of Russ. The land so cold had nothing to offer Alfred and in return he had nothing to offer the kingdom.

Alfred had nothing left to give.

It was called love making, the sacred dance between a husband and his bride. Alfred felt no love. King Ivan gave him pleasure only temporarily for a temporary body, but as for his heart? Well, the king might attempt to kill the frozen organ to his official queen, but as stated before: Alfred had nothing more to give.

His husband held him like he wanted him; his kisses did emit a passion, as did his caresses a gentleness. But Alfred was in such a state that he could take nothing in, no comfort, no love, not even threats that Alfred had taken into his heart. He was near dead, and he was the only one who realized it.

When the king was finished with him and laid atop and inside him, sleeping, Alfred found no ease into sleep. He was exhausted. King Ivan had taken him so many times. Yet Alfred could not sleep. He knew why of course. He had already realized long ago that his eyelids would not close in this life. Still, he needed to rest because he was so very, very tired.

Reaching up Alfred found the dagger he'd hidden under the pillows. He gripped it tightly and pulled it out into view. It was of simple design but its purpose predestined.

Holding it high Alfred slid the silver blade across the broad back of his husband whilst he slumbered. It was interesting to see a frost fall in the wake of the blade's path making Alfred wonder how the ice king might be killed. It was not he who wished to kill King Ivan, maybe once upon a time but now Alfred's task was for his own peace of mind and killing King Ivan was not it despite the king reining in responsibility of killing the royal family of Americana, Alfred's family.

Then, Alfred remembered King Ivan telling him he did it—he killed his family—so that they could be together.

Alfred would have sacrificed the comfort of the borders of Americana if only he had known what the King of Russ had wanted. He would have gladly accepted Ivan's proposal if he had known during the war. If his father had just told him then they would all still be alive, then millions would not have died in vain. King Samuel, Queen Alice, Price Jonathan, Princess Amelia, Prince Jan, Davie. Alfred would know that they were alive even though he wouldn't be physically with them.

If only Alfred had known then he wouldn't have to feel so ashamed, so broken. He wouldn't be laying there looking up at King Ivan as the king awoke and pulled himself from him. Alfred wouldn't be reciting his family's names to try to show his husband how much he cared for them. Alfred was depressed by Ivan's lack of care.

If Alfred would have known that to stop the deaths of his people, his friends, his family required for him to give himself to the ice king then he would have without a second thought. There was a chance he could have loved Ivan with a heart not yet broken and arms to hold him with assurance. But Alfred never knew, and because of that his spirit was so violently crushed that only his God and that of the presence of his family could mend. There was only one way to see them and his God.

Alfred could tell when he raised the dagger into the view of his husband that the man assumed he would attack him. The look in his eyes told him so. Alfred didn't want King Ivan's life. He wanted his freedom.

It didn't hurt as much as Alfred had thought it would as he plunged the dagger into his own heart. When King Ivan pulled it out it hurt and when King Ivan cried it hurt.

In the end Alfred was not overcome with comfort of the knowledge that he'd be reunited with his family again and his soul healed. In the end Alfred was baffled and confused over why the King of the Kingdom of Russ had cried so loudly over his body. Alfred was confused over why King Ivan's tears felt so heavy with anguish as they rolled down the pale man's cheeks. He just couldn't understand why those amethyst eyes looked so haunted with sorrow.

Ivan had once said how much he loved Alfred, the boy only assuming his proclaimed love meant obsessed lust for a tyrant king. Now, as Alfred's curiosity and need for answers kept his spirit still he stood beside King Ivan and looked for the truth. And Alfred found it.

King Ivan never remarried after Alfred's passing. He never even sought the comfort of bed maidens to warm him at nights. The King of Russ looked so cold in the nights that Alfred would wrap his arms around him hoping he would lay his head down for easing slumber, but the king soon forsook dream and laid awake in the cold dark nights.

The king was heartbroken because he had indeed loved. Even after understanding this Alfred remained at his side in prayer that Ivan sleep, that he cease his own torment and that he care for himself.

Alfred wondered if Ivan could feel his presence at times. He swore the king would look directly at him and then he spoke as if speaking to him, like he knew he was there with him listening.

Over time Alfred watched King Ivan transform. He had taken his body back to the White City and buried him in the valley surrounding. The White City was rebuilt in its old likeness by Ivan's own treasures and Americanans set free to live in the city by the King's own decree.

A broken heart can do many things. One, it can press down heavily on your spirit until you can take it no longer, or it could change you into someone you never were before. Ivan changed and Alfred wondered if he had to die for this to come to pass.

Seeing him new and his capability to change Alfred felt he could have loved King Ivan in life. But that was a possibility lost and with the truth in hand Alfred's spirit felt at ease. After seeing the change in the King of Russ Alfred had forgiven him and in show of it Alfred sent him a gift in the form of a flower. He was glad that the king liked them; even his own people flocked around the tall and large blossoms.

But even so Alfred lingered. He didn't understand why when he longed to see his family again and to hold and kiss each one of them. Perhaps it was the want to warm Ivan as he lay in bed cold and lonely. Perhaps it was the want to sway his thoughts toward good deeds and heart-felt actions.

After King Ivan converted to Americanan religion Alfred began praying to his God for Ivan's acceptance, and after witnessing the king's repentance first hand Alfred remained and swore to himself and to his God that he be there to ferry Ivan's passed spirit into the next life.

Because now the lack of Ivan's smile upset Alfred's spirit; because he knew he paid penance; because Alfred wanted Ivan to be at peace, and he was glad in knowing he was not the only one praying for this King of Russ—so did Alfred wait by King Ivan's side. It wouldn't be long now, and Alfred didn't mind if Ivan was allowed into their heaven for the rest of eternity.


End file.
